PERFECT 


i> 


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UNIVERSITY 

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HppIeton5* 

XTown  an^  Country 

Xibrar^ 

No.    212 


PERFECTION   CITY 


PERFECTION    CITY 


BY 

MRS.    ORPEN 

AUTHOR    OF    MARGARETA    COLBERG,    MR.    ADOLF^ 
THE    CHRONICLES    OF    THE    SID,    ETC. 


NEW     YORK 

D.     APPLETON    AND    COMPANY 

1897 


Copyright,  1897, 
By  D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY. 


61  ^p 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PA.GB 

I. — Home-coming  of  the  BkiDE 1 

II. — Uncle  David 11 

III. — Sister  Mary  Winkle 21 

IV. — Madame  Morozoff-Smith 27 

V. — Corn  planting 43 

VI. — Non-resistance 54 

VIL— WiLLETTE 66 

VIII.— Mr.  Perseus 84 

IX. — First  lessons 101 

X. — Practical  communism Ill 

XI. — A  CHANCE  meeting 125 

XII. — The  prairie  fire 141 

XII T. — The  rescue 156 

XIV. — COTTERELL   "  WANTED" 170 

XV. — In  quest  of  news 185 

XVI. — Horse  thieves 204 

XVII. — A  LIFE  at  stake 219 

XVIII.— Lynch  law 237 

XIX. — Olive  missing 251 

XX. — Madame's  sympathy 263 

XXI. — The  message 277 

XXII.— Olive's  second  home-coming 293 

XXIIL— Conclusion 305 


PERFECTION  CITY. 


CHAPTER   I. 

HOME-COMING   OF   THE   BRIDE. 

"This  road  isn't  called  Perfection  Road,  is  it?" 
she  asked  jerkily,  as  she  held  tight  hold  of  the  edge 
of  the  waggon  to  prevent  herself  from  being  pitched 
head  foremost  off  the  seat.  She  would  have  laid  her 
head  against  her  companion's  shoulder  only  that  it 
was  square  and  hard,  and  she  was  afraid  of  getting 
her  temple  "  stove  in,"  as  the  sailors  say,  by  the  ter- 
rific bumps  caused  by  the  wheels  going  over  a  big 
stone  or  down  into  a  deep  rut.  She  was  a  bride,  and 
he  was  bringing  her  to  their  new  home  on  the  Kansas 
Prairie. 

"  My  poor  little  pet,"  he  said  tenderly,  "  it  is  very 
rough  here.  We  are  going  down  into  Cotton  Wood 
Creek,  and  these  stones  were  cast  up  by  the  last  freshet 
which  pretty  well  washed  the  road  away." 

They  plunged  headlong  into  the  muddy  waters 
of  the  Creek,  and  the  little  bride  would  have  felt 
frightened  only  that  "  he  "  was  by  her  side,  for  the 


2  PERFECTION  CITY. 

waggon  creaked  and  groaned  with  the  strain,  and  the 
horses  snorted  uneasily,  feeling  their  way  carefully 
through  the  rushing  torrent.  The  Creek  was  safely 
passed,  and  they  slowly  toiled  up  the  long  hill  out  of 
the  bottom-lands,  and  pulled  up  when  once  more  on 
the  high  prairie. 

"  There  is  our  home,  dearie,"  he  said,  pointing 
with  his  whip  to  some  scattered  houses  a  couple  of 
miles  away.    And  being  a  bridegroom  he  kissed  her. 

"  So  that  is  Perfection  City,  is  it?  "  said  she,  shad- 
ing her  eyes  with  her  hand,  for  the  afternoon  sun  sent 
level  rays  into  her  face.  "  You  know,  Ezra,  it  is  such 
a  funny  name,  I  always  feel  inclined  to  laugh  when 
I  say  it.  And  how  I  shall  ever  dare  to  put  it  at  the 
top  of  my  letters  as  a  real  address  when  I  write  to 
the  girls  at  the  College  at  Smyrna,  is  more  than  I 
know." 

"  Then  don't  write  it,"  replied  Ezra,  a  trifle  stern- 
ly. "  It  will  hurt  our  feelings  very  much  if  you  laugh 
at  it.    You  know  it  means  a  great  deal  to  all  of  us." 

"  Then  I'll  never  laugh  at  it,"  said  the  little 
bride. 

"  Which  is  our  house?  "  she  asked  a  moment  later. 

**  The  one  half  way  up  the  slope." 

"  Oh,  that  is  nice.  I  like  looking  down  across 
things.  I  shouldn't  like  to  live  in  a  valley  and  always 
have  to  look  up,  you  know." 

"  The  large  building  is  the  Academy,"  said  Ezra. 
^*  That  is  where  we  hold  our  meetings  and  gather  to- 


HOME-COMING  OF  THE  BRIDE.  3 

gether  for  all  the  best  purposes  of  our  little  community- 
life/^ 

"  Is  it  there  that  Madame  Morozoff-Smith  lives?  " 
asked  his  wife. 

"  Her  house  is  the  one  just  opposite." 

"  Oh,  that  big  one!  It  is  quite  the  largest  in  the 
village — the  City,  I  mean." 

Ezra  did  not  make  any  reply  to  this  remark.  He 
had  never  realised  that  Madame's  house  was  indeed 
the  largest  in  their  Community,  and  now  he  felt  vexed 
that  this  fact  should  have  been  the  first  his  wife  noted. 

A  small  boy  with  shining  black  face  and  shining 
white  teeth,  along  with  a  yellow  puppy,  welcomed 
them. 

"  This  is  Napoleon  Pompey,"  said  Ezra,  with  much 
decorum  presenting  the  small  darkie  who  grinned  and 
bobbed  his  head.  "  And  this  is  Diana,"  pointing  to 
the  puppy  that  had  come  up  to  the  bars  along  with 
the  negro.  Diana  jumped  upon  her  new  mistress  and 
left  two  black  dust  marks  on  her  dress.  Dust  is 
black  in  London  and  on  the  western  prairie,  nowhere 
else. 

"  Oh,  you  dirty  dog,"  said  the  little  bride,  who  was 
a  very  natty  body. 

"  You'll  have  to  get  used  to  dirt  in  all  degrees 
out  here,  Ollie,"  said  her  husband  as  he  led  her  to 
the  door.  She  looked  like  a  little  girl  as  she  stood 
beside  him,  for  he  was  tall  and  angular  and  long  of 
leg.     A  sloping  plank  with  battens  nailed  across  it 


4  PERFECTION  CITY. 

led  to  the  door,  there  were  no  steps.  As  the  pair  en- 
tered, Napoleon  Pompey  and  Diana  took  the  horses 
and  waggon  to  the  stable  and  began  respectively  to  un- 
harness and  worry  them. 

"What  a  dear  little  house!  It  is  just  like  a  toy! 
And  do  look  at  the  saws  hanging  on  the  walls  beside 
the  covers  of  the  pots!  Oh,  won't  it  be  so  nice  and 
free  living  here!  I  shall  feel  like  an  explorer  in  a 
far  country.  And  how  funny  to  have  nail  kegs  for 
seats,  and  oh,  you  dear  old  darling! '' 

Olive  jumped  up  and  kissed  her  big  husband. 

"  Things  are  rough  now,  dearie,"  he  said  with 
infinite  tenderness,  looking  at  her  with  loving  admira- 
tion, "but  by  and  by  we  shall  have  everything  very 


nice." 


"  But  I  think  it   is  just  as   nice  as   it   can  be 


now." 


"  This  is  our  room,"  said  he,  opening  a  door  to 
the  right. 

"Why,  if  you  haven't  gone  and  got  a  rocking- 
chair!  "  exclaimed  Olive,  glancing  around  the  small 
apartment. 

"  I  made  it  for  you  myself  in  spare  time,"  answered 
Ezra,  pleased  that  she  had  noticed  the  chair  the  first 
thing:  he  had  often  wondered,  when  working  at  that 
rocking-chair,  whether  she  would  be  pleased  with  it. 
"You  see,"  he  continued,  "we  have  to  work  only 
five  days  a  week  for  the  Community.  All  the  rest 
of  our  time  is  at  our  own  disposal,  and  by  and  by, 


HOME-COMING  OF  THE  BRIDE.  5 

when  we  are  flourishing,  four  days  for  the  Commu- 
nity will  suffice." 

"  Do  you  like  working  for  other  people  and  not 
being  paid  ?  "  asked  Olive. 

"  I  do  not  consider  it  as  working  for  other  people 
without  pay/'  replied  her  husband,  with  some  quick- 
ness. "  We  each  work  for  the  general  good,  and  if  I 
happen  to  plant  corn  that  someone  else  will  eat,  then 
some  other  member  of  the  Community  raises  potatoes 
that  I  shall  eat." 

"  There,  there,  don't  be  cross,"  said  the  little  wife, 
noting  the  flush  that  had  risen  to  his  brow  as  he  spoke. 
"I  am  sure  it  is  nice,  and  I  shall  like  it  when  I 
understand  it  all.  At  any  rate  we  shall  be  very 
happy  whatever  happens,  and  I  like  my  dear  little 
house,  and  please,  I  am  very  thirsty,  can  I  have  a 
drink?" 

He  brought  her  some  water  in  a  tin  dipper  with 
a  long  handle,  and  she  did  not  make  a  face,  but  drank 
the  water  gratefully.  She  determined  in  her  own  mind, 
however,  to  have  a  glass  tumbler  the  very  next  day,  but 
she  was  new  to  the  prairie,  and  she  did  not  get  the 
tumbler  the  next  day,  nor  the  next  week,  nor  for 
many,  many  long  months. 

"  What  time  are  we  to  have  breakfast?  "  she  asked, 
when  taking  over  the  household  from  Napoleon  Pom- 
pey  and  Diana,  who  had  run  the  establishment  while 
her  husband  had  been  to  fetch  her  from  Ohio. 

"  Yo'  kin  eat  when  yo'  like,"  said  Napoleon  Pom- 


Q  PERFECTION  CITY. 

pey,  desiring  to  be  all  that  was  polite  to  his  new  mis- 
tress. 

"But  I  want  to  know  what  time  you  have  break- 
fast? "  repeated  Olive  with  persistence. 

"  We  uns  got  ter  be  hout  on  der  Ian'  ploughin' 
afore  sun-up,"  said  Napoleon  Pompey  concisely. 

"  Dear  me!  Why,  that  is  before  six  o'clock!  "  ex- 
claimed Olive. 

"  I  calkerlate,"  said  Napoleon  Pompey  affably. 

Ezra  did  not  want  Olive  to  think  she  was  bound 
to  get  up  and  prepare  the  working-man's  breakfast. 

"  You  are  not  used  to  that  sort  of  hard  work, 
dearie.    We  can  do  very  well  with  cold  corn-bread." 

"  Of  all  things  the  most  stoggy  and  hopelessly  un- 
inviting,'^ interrupted  his  wife.  "  No,  Ezra,  I  won't 
have  any  of  the  people  out  here  think  I  am  a  little 
fool  that  can't  do  any  useful  work.  I  have  my  pride 
as  well  as  other  folks.  I  shall  cook  your  breakfast 
to-morrow  and  every  day  afterwards,  and  I  shall  cook 
it  well,  see  if  I  don't." 

"  I  am  sure  of  that,"  said  her  husband  with  the 
confidence  of  a  bridegroom. 

The  house  of  which  the  young  bride  had  just  taken 
possession  was  by  no  means  an  ordinary  prairie  house. 
Far  from  it.  It  had  pretensions  to  comfort  which  the 
true  prairie  house  should  never  possess,  and  it  lacked 
the  few  elements  of  picturesqueness  with  which  the 
genuine  article  is  sometimes  endowed.  The  plan  on 
which  it  was  built  was  of  the  simplest — the  same  that 


HOME-COMING  OF  THE  BRIDE.  7 

children  adopt  in  building  their  doll's  houses — four 
sides  and  a  sloping  roof,  all  of  wood  from  top  to  bot- 
tom. It  was  not  a  log-house,  which  has  a  few  broken 
lines  to  rest  the  eye  of  the  beholder  and  present  pos- 
sibilities to  the  artist,  it  was  a  frame  house,  that  is, 
the  straightest,  stiffest,  squarest,  most  hopelessly  un- 
picturesque  object  that  it  is  possible  to  imagine,  and  to 
make  matters  worse  it  was  painted  a  glaring  white 
from  eaA^e  to  foundation.  There  was  not  a  broken  line 
or  a  broken  tint  anywhere  to  refresh  the  eye,  and 
it  stood  on  the  high  prairie,  as  if  hurled  into  a  glar- 
ing world  by  a  Titan's  hand. 

The  prairie  is  fertile,  and  in  the  eye  of  a  farmer 
may  possess  the  beauty  of  usefulness,  but  otherwise  it 
is  hideous.  The  long  rolling  billows  of  grass  present 
no  character,  while  the  trees  are  confined  to  the  river 
valleys  where  they  find  refuge  from  prairie  fires,  and 
can  therefore  lead  a  sufficiently  undisturbed  exist- 
ence to  reach  quite  a  respectable  height.  A  couple  of 
small  locust  trees,  not  three  feet  high,  were  all  that 
did  duty  as  shade-giving  plants  near  Olive's  house, 
which  accordingly  faced  the  world  and  its  storms  en- 
tirely on  its  own  individual  merits.  Judged  by  prairie 
standard  the  house  was  "tip-top."  It  possessed  no 
less  than  four  rooms,  while  the  regular  settler's  cabin 
was  wont  to  indulge  in  only  a  single  comprehensive 
apartment,  which  was  kitchen,  parlour  and  bed-room 
all  in  one.  The  two  lower  rooms  were  the  kitchen, 
which  was  fairly  large,  and  a  smaller  one  off  it,  re- 


8  PERFECTION  CITY. 

served  for  the  private  use  of  the  young  wife.  The 
kitchen  looked  hke  a  ship's  cabin,  only  that  it  had 
more  light  than  usually  penetrates  into  a  ship's  cabin. 
In  fact  it  was  very  light,  for  there  were  two  large  win- 
dows, one  to  the  north  and  one  to  the  south,  geo- 
metrically opposite  each  other.  These  two  windows, 
so  exactly  facing  each  other,  were  fairly  typical  of  the 
house  itself,  which  was  the  embodiment  of  mathemati- 
cal accuracy.  The  building  was  placed  exactly  east 
and  west,  as  if  it  had  been  a  carefully  oriented  church. 
There  was  a  door  on  the  south  side,  exactly  in  the 
middle,  and  a  window  on  either  side  of  the  door,  placed 
accurately  in  the  centre  of  the  space  left  between  the 
side  of  the  door  and  the  end  of  the  house.  Over  these 
two  windows  were  two  others  exactly  one  half  their 
size,  giving  light  to  the  loft,  and  exactly  in  the  centre 
of  the  roof-ridge  was  a  black  stove-pipe. 

The  average  prairie  man  is  a  genius  in  the  way 
of  doing  without  things.  He  can  live  in  a  house  of 
the  smallest  dimensions,  containing  the  minimum  of 
utensils.  In  fact,  his  idea  of  a  house  is  that  it  should 
be  a  miner's  tent  solidified  into  substantiality.  The 
miner  in  a  newly-prospected  gold-field  is  a  person  who 
spends  his  days  in  a  hole,  and  has  no  belongings  but 
the  clothes  on  his  back  and  the  shovel  in  his  hand. 
He  lives  on  his  expectations.  The  regular  prairie  set- 
tler, would  arrive  in  the  spring,  camp  in  his  waggon, 
stick  grains  of  corn  under  the  sod,  and  think  him- 
self lucky  if  he  could  raise  both  the  corn  and  a  log- 


HOME-COMING  OF  THE  BRIDE.  9 

hut,  fourteen  by  twelve  feet,  before  the  cold  weather 
set  in.  Those  who  have  passed  through  sucli  a  severe 
school  prune  down  their  requirements.  Therefore  the 
house  to  which  Ezra  Weston  brought  his  little  bride 
was  rightly  considered  to  be  a  model  of  luxury,  or  in 
prairie  phraseology  to  be  "  powerful  full  o'  truck.'' 

The  kitchen  certainly  was  full.     The  stove,  black 
and  business-like,  stood  near  the  partition  wall,  and 
on  it  rested  a  couple  of  huge  iron  pots  with  covers. 
Chairs  there  were  none,  as  Olive  had  remarked,  but 
boxes  and  nail-kegs  did  as  well  and  were  useful  in 
holding   things.      There   was   a   large   wooden   table, 
very  strongly  made,  on  one  side,  and  a  set  of  shelves 
in  one  corner.     The  walls  and  ceihng,  which  were  of 
wood  closely  jointed,  added  to  the  ship-like  appear- 
ance of  the  room,  but  the  presence  of  two  large  saws 
and  a  horse-collar  which  hung  above  them  made  a  con- 
siderable deduction  from  the  nautical  character  of  the 
apartment. 

This  model  dwelling  stood  in  the  midst  of  a  large 
tract  of  fenced-in  land.  Part  of  this  was  already 
under  cultivation  and  showed  a  dark  purple  surface 
to  the  heavens,  betokening  newly  turned  up  prairie 
sod  full  of  the  natural  plant  foods  stored  there  for 
thousands  of  ages.  These  were  now  about  to  be  reck- 
lessly used  up  by  the  ordinary  system  of  prairie  farm- 
ing, which  consisted  of  taking  everything  out  of  the 
land  and  of  putting  nothing  back  into  it.  A  sort  of 
road,  that  is  to  say  a  beaten  track  with  deep  channels 


10  PERFECTION  CITY. 

on  either  side,  led  from  the  house  to  the  bars,  which 
did  duty  as  gate  to  the  premises.  These  bars  were  pre- 
cisely what  the  name  implies,  bars  of  wood  lying  on 
supports  made  for  them  between  posts,  and  they  were 
simply  let  down  whenever  horses  or  other  animals 
had  to  pass  in  or  out,  and  were  climbed  over  by  active 
children  too  lazy  to  let  them  down  or  rather,  perhaps, 
too  lazy  to  put  them  up  again. 

On  one  side  of  the  bars  stretching  out  at  an  angle 
was  an  orchard  just  planted  with  trees  that  probably 
would  be  worth  having  twenty  years  hence,  and  further 
away  was  another  field  consisting  simply  of  fenced-in 
prairie  grass.  The  fields,  and  indeed  everything  else, 
were  square,  and  every  fence  that  did  not  run  north 
and  south,  ran  east  and  wesit.  The  whole  place  seemed 
under  a  despotism  of  compass  and  measuring  chain; 
Indeed,  the  prairie  itself  was  under  the  same  iron  rule: 
and  by  the  authorities  had  been  plotted  out  into  squares 
of  a  mile  each  way  called  "  sections,"  of  which  per- 
sons could  buy  of  the  Government  quarter  sections  or 
multiples  of  a  quarter  section  at  a  low  rate.  Fortu- 
nately for  humanity  this  conspiracy  to  turn  the  world 
into  a  surveyor's  map  was  to  some  extent  defeated  by 
the  rivers  and  streams,  which  ran  as  Heaven  and  the 
water-sheds  decreed,  and  not  as  the  officials  at  Wash- 
ington desired.  This  fact,  and  this  alone,  has  in  some 
measure  saved  the  prairie  from  the  awful  fate  of  mathe- 
matical damnation. 


CHAPTER  11. 

UNCLE  DAVID. 

Mrs.  Weston  was  tired  and  sat  down  in  her  rock- 
ing-chair to  rest.  Her  day's  work  was  fairly  over. 
The  breakfast  had  been  ready  punctually  at  half  past 
five,  and  it  was  well-cooked,  as  she  had  boasted  it 
would  be — corn-bread  smoking  hot,  fried  chicken,  po- 
tatoes, flap-jacks  and  molasses — a  meal  for  a  king, 
to  say  nothing  of  a  working-man  and  his  negro  help. 
Ezra  and  Napoleon  Pompey  had  partaken  heartily, 
especially  the  latter,  for  he  had  been  living  on  under- 
done hoe-cake  and  cold  pork.  Then  they  had  gone 
off  to  the  ploughing,  while  Olive  had  bustled  around 
and  got  forward  with  her  house-work.  At  eleven 
o'clock  she  had  run  up  the  towel  against  the  shady 
side  of  the  house,  a  signal  easily  seen  from  the  distant 
field,  and  signifying  that  dinner  was  ready.  They 
had  come  home,  men  and  horses  thoroughly  hungry 
and  ready  for  food  and  rest.  Ezra  lay  on  the  kitchen 
floor  and  talked  to  her  while  she  washed  up  the  dishes. 
And  now  it  was  three  o'clock,  and  all  the  work  was 
done.  She  thought  she  would  read  a  little.  She  had 
8  n 


12  PERFECTION  CITY. 

several  books  with  her  that  she  had  been  looking  for- 
ward to  reading.  So  she  took  up  one  of  them  and 
seated  herself  comfortably  in  the  rocking-chair.  The 
door  was  open  and  a  warm  air  came  in  from  the  south 
along  with  the  gleaming  sunshine.  Diana  lay  across 
the  door-way,  but  kept  one  eye  open,  so  as  to  see 
when  the  black  hen  came  near  enough  to  have  a  spring 
at  her  with  any  chance  of  grabbing  a  mouthful  of  tail- 
feathers.  Olive's  eyes  rested  very  little  on  the  book, 
but  much  on  the  view  outside.  It  looked  pleasant 
enough  in  the  bright  May  sunshine.  The  long  brown 
patch  of  the  garden  showed  a  few  methodical  green 
lines  that  spoke  of  vegetables  beginning  to  sprout. 
The  meadow  of  blue  grass  just  beyond  was  likewise 
by  its  hue  showing  the  on-coming  of  the  warm  spring 
weather,  and  yet  again  further  off,  on  the  other  side 
of  the  meadow,  lay  the  vast  field  which  her  husband 
was  ploughing.  Once  in  every  half  hour  she  could 
see  him  turn  at  the  head-land,  and  noted  how  seldom 
he  seemed  to  stop  and  rest.  Napoleon  Pompey  was 
riding  the  off  leader,  and  from  that  distance  they 
seemed  little  insects  gently  crawling  backwards  and 
forwards  across  the  land.  Pleasant  it  looked  too  and 
by  no  means  hard  work.  Olive  determined  to  go  out 
to  the  field  one  day  soon  and  watch  the  process  from  a 
nearer  point  of  view;  she  might  indeed  herself  hold 
the  plough-handles,  it  looked  easy,  she  would  ask  Ezra 
to  let  her,  she  would  like  to  learn  to  do  all  sorts  of 
work  so  as  to  be  very  useful,  she  would — confused  im- 


UNCLE   DAVID.  13 

ages  swept  slowly  over  her  mind,  she  leaned  back  her 
pretty  little  head  and  slept  in  her  chair. 

She  awoke  with  a  start.  A  large  square  figure 
stood  in  the  doorway,  blocking  out  the  sunshine,  and 
Diana,  with  the  insane  friendliness  of  a  puppy,  was 
trying  to  clamber  up  one  of  his  legs. 

"  Well,  little  gal,  I  reckon  you're  'most  tired  out, 
ain't  you  ?  "  said  the  big  man,  coming  straight  into 
the  room. 

Mrs.  Weston  rose  to  her  utmost  height  of  five  feet 
two  inches,  and  tried  to  be  dignified. 

"  Do  you  wish  to  see  my  husband  ?  "  she  inquired 
stiffly. 

**  No,  I  don't  want  to  see  Ezry.  I  come  to  talk  to 
you  a  spell,  and  see  you." 

"  You  are  very  kind  I'm  sure,"  returned  the  little 
lady  icily,  but  the  stranger  did  not  seem  one  whit 
abashed.  He  took  a  nail-keg  and  sat  down  on  it  and 
looked  about  him.  "  Wal,  now,"  he  remarked,  nod- 
ding his  head,  "  Ezry  is  real  downright  handy.  He's 
gone  and  got  your  house  fine  and  fixed  up,  ain't  he 
now?  " 

"  It  is  extremely  comfortable,  Mr. — ah — I  don't 
think  you  mentioned  your  name,"  said  Mrs.  Weston, 
with  a  snap  of  her  black  eyes.  She  didn't  at  all  relish 
the  free  and  easy  way  in  which  this  man  spoke  of  her 
husband. 

"  Do  tell!  "  exclaimed  the  stranger  with  vast  cor- 
diality.   "  An'  you  didn't  know  who  I  was.    Why,  I'm 


14  PERFECTION  CITY. 

Uncle  David.  I  guessed  everybody  'ud  know  me. 
There  ain't  nobody  else  so  big  and  awkward  looking 
'bout  hero  on  this  prairie  as  nic.  Why,  {\\vvv  was 
a  man  over  to  Perfection  City  yesterday,  he  come  from 
beyond  Cotton  Wood  Creek,  and  he  said  ho  calculated 
IM  be  powerful  useful  on  washing  days,  'cause  if  they 
tied  the  clothes-line  to  me  I'd  do  instead  of  a  polo, 
an'  timber  is  mighty  scarce  anyhow." 

Uncle  David  gave  a  long  loud  laugh  that  sot  Diana 
into  an  ecstasy  of  delight,  and  was  of  itself  so  joyous 
that,  after  a  moment,  Olive  also  joined  in  with  a  merry 
titter.  She  liad  often  heard  her  husband  speak  of 
Uncle  David,  as  being  one  of  the  kindest  and  most 
simple-hearted  of  men.  Iler  frigid  manner  melted  rap- 
idly and  completely. 

"  Wal,  now,"  began  Uncle  David  again,  after  his 
merriment  had  subsided,  *'  how  do  you  like  our 
name  ^ 

"  Your  name,"  repeated  Olive  considerably  })uz- 
zled. 

"  Xo,  our  name,  the  name  of  the  Community,  Per- 
fection City.    Do  you  like  it?" 

"  I  don't  think  1  do,"  replied  she. 

"  Jes'  so,"  broke  in  Uncle  David,  apparently  much 
pleased  with  this  answer.  "  I  knew  you  wouldn't.  No- 
body does." 

"  Why  did  you  call  it  such  a  name — such  a  horrid 
name — and  if  nobody  likes  it,  what  is  the  use?  " 

*'  There  now,  that's  what  they  all  say,  until  I  talk 


UNCLE   DAVTD.  15 

to  'em,"  said  Uncle  David.  "  You  see  I  gave  the  name 
to  the  place." 

^'  Oh,  it  was  your  choice!  "  said  Olive. 

"  When  we  came  here,  Niece  and  I,  there  wasn't 
no  town  nor  nothing,  it  was  just  open  prairie.  Ezry 
he  come  along  too  with  us,  and  the  Carpenters,  and 
Mrs.  Euby,  and  the  Wrights." 

"  You  leave  out  Madame  Morozoff-Smith,"  inter- 
rupted Olive. 

"  I  thought  you  knew.  Why,  Madame,  she's  Niece. 
She  ain't  my  real  niece,  she  wasn't  born  in  my  family, 
but  she's  niece  by  adoption,  and  I  hold  she's  more  to 
me  than  half  the  nieces  I  ever  seen.  I  ain't  cute  like 
most  of  the  folks  here,  an'  there  wasn't  no  use  in  hav- 
ing me  at  Perfection  City.  I  can't  do  nothing.  I 
can't  compose  papers  like  Brother  Wright.  So  I  was 
studyin'  to  see  some  way  for  me  to  come  with  'em. 
It  would  ha'  broke  my  heart  to  be  left  behind.  Ma- 
dame, she  come  to  me,  an'  says  she:  '  You'll  be  my 
uncle.  I  want  an  uncle  very  much,  and  I'll  love  you 
dearly.'  An'  so  I  was.  I  call  it  the  greatest  honour 
of  my  life  when  Madame  made  me  her  uncle,  and  added 
my  name  to  hers."  Uncle  David  stooped  and  j)atted 
Diana's  head  thoughtfully. 

"When  did  you  think  of  the  name?"  said  Olive 
with  a  view  to  bringing  him  back  to  the  point. 

"  Yes,  jes'  so,  that's  'xactly  what  I  was  comin'  to. 
You  see,  when  Ezry  fust  come  here  with  us  he  wasn't 
quite  clear  in  his  mind  'bout  joinin'  in  with  us,  least- 


16  PERFECTION  CITY. 

ways  not  to  be  one  of  the  Community  for  his  whole 
mortal  life.  It's  a  serious  step  to  take,  and  he  was 
a-doubtin'  in  his  mind,  leastways  till  Madame  she 
?  talked  to  him  for  a  spell.  He  wasn't  sure  fust  if  he'd 
got  a  call  to  community-life.  He  knowed  it  was  the 
best,  of  course,  and  the  true  life:  he  knowed  all  that 
right  enough,  but  he  didn't  feel  sure  of  himself  as  bein' 
-fit  to  found  a  city.  It  is  a  most  responsible  thing  to 
be  a  founder.  'Taint  everybody  as  is  fit  for  it.  Then 
Madame  made  it  clear  how  she  was  a  founder,  an'  she 
is  the  most  wonderful  woman  ever  lived  in  this  world, 
an'  she  showed  Ezry  how  it  was  his  duty  to  help  in 
this  great  work,  an'  when  he  saw  that  clear  he  was 
dreadful  sot  on  it  too.  We  was  a-gettin'  our  houses 
up  as  spry  as  ever  we  could,  and  ole  Wright  he  was 
a-buildin'  th'  Academy,  then  Ezry  says:  'What's  goin' 
to  be  our  name?'  It  was  jes'  called  Weddell's  Gully, 
'cause  we  bought  from  a  man  o'  that  name.  So  Ezry 
said:  *  Let's  call  it  something  to  signify  our  princi- 
ples,' and  one  person  said  one  name  and  one  said  an- 
other, then  Wright  said  '  Let's  call  it  Teleiopolis.' " 

"  Oh,  that  sounds  very  pretty,"  exclaimed  Olive. 
"Why  didn't  you?" 

"  Wal,  now,  I  said  that's  very  pretty,  jes'  the  same 
as  you  did.     What  does  it  mean,  do  you  know?" 

"No,  I  don't  know.  I  suppose  it  is  Greek  for 
something." 

"  'Zactly  so.  It  is  Greek  for  something,  and  that 
something  is  Perfection  City." 


UNCLE  DAVID.  17 

''It  sounds  nicer." 

"  Maybe  so,  but  you  look  here.    Are  we  Greeks?  '* 

"  No,  of  course  not." 

"Then  why  talk  in  Greek?" 

"  I  don't  know,  except  it  is  prettier." 

"  Do  you  suppose  them  old  Greeks,  when  they  went 
an'  founded  cities,  they  called  'em  names  out  o'  some 
other  language  they  didn't  understand,  or  did  they 
called  'em  good  solid  Greek  names  as  any  little  boy 
'ud  know  what  they  meant?  "  asked  Uncle  David  with 
rising  energy. 

"  I  believe  they  called  their  cities  by  Greek  names, 
in  fact  I  know  they  did,"  said  Olive,  hastily  reviewing 
her  stock  of  history. 

"  An'  why  ?  "  asked  Uncle  David. 

"  I  don't  know. 

"  Because  they  wasn't  'shamed  o'  their  mother 
tongue  like  we  are.  That's  why,"  said  Uncle  David, 
clapping  his  big  hand  on  his  knee. 

"  Oh  indeed,"  said  Olive. 

"  An'  that's  what  I  said,  says  I,  '  We  are  'Mericans, 
we  are  founding  a  new  city  that's  goin'  to  be  great 
things  one  day.  We  have  our  principles.  Tret's  live 
up  to  them.  We  hain't  shamed  o'  nothin'.  Leastways 
not  to  my  knowledge.  We  are  goin'  to  be  an  exam- 
ple to  these  folks  roun'  here.  We  are  goin'  to  show 
'em  how  to  live  a  better  life  nor  they  ever  did  before. 
An'  how  in  thunder  can  we  do  that  if  we  start  by 
being  'shamed  of  our  own  mother  tongue?   We  hain't 


18     •  PERFECTION  CITY. 

Greeks,  we  don't  talk  in  Greek.  This  hain't  Teleiopo- 
lis,  this  is  Perfection  City.'  That  is  what  1  said  to 
'em." 

"What  did  they  say  to  that?"  asked  Olive, 
much  interested  in  the  rugged  honesty  of  Uncle 
David. 

"  Wal,  I  don't  know  as  they  said  anything  much, 
on'y  Ezry,  he  said  he  guessed  he'd  had  his  fust  lesson, 
an'  he  come  and  shook  hands  an'  said  it  certainly 
should  be  Perfection  City,  an'  so  it  was." 

"  I  shall  think  better  of  the  name  now,"  said  Olive. 
"  Only  at  first  I  was  afraid  of  peojDle  laughing,  people 
who  didn't  understand  it,  you  see." 

"  Oh,  people  '11  laugh,"  said  Uncle  David.  "  Peo- 
ple does  a  heap  o'  laughing  in  this  world  without  mak- 
in'  it  one  mite  merrier  for  anybody.  I  like  laughing 
myself.  It's  awful  good  an'  satisfyin'  to  have  a  real 
square  laugh,  but  faint  that  sort.  Mos'  folks'  laugh 
hain't  got  no  more  fun  in  it  than  the  laugh  of  a  hoot- 
owl.  I'd  a  heap  sight  rather  have  none  at  all.  You 
ain't  agoin'  to  mind  that  sort,  I  hope  ?  "  Uncle  David 
spoke  with  a  shade  of  anxiety  in  his  manner. 

"  Oh  no,  I'm  not  thin-skinned,"  said  Olive  with 
a  superior  smile. 

"  Some  folks  is  made  that  way.  When  they  have 
found  a  tender  spot  in  anybody  they  can't  rest  no 
how  till  they've  stuck  some  sort  o'  pin  into  it." 

"  Tell  me,  does  everything  belong  to  everybody 
generally  out  here?     It  is  so  puzzling.     This  house. 


UNCLE  DAVID.  19 

for  instance,  is  it  ours  or  yours  or  everybody's?" 
asked  Olive. 

"  The  land  an'  the  horses  an'  the  cattle  an'  waggons 
was  mostly  bought  with  community-money,  that  is 
Madame,  she  gave  the  money,  she's  rich  you  know, 
an'  she's  generous  and  always  givin'  to  the  Community, 
her  whole  heart  is  in  it.  But  Ezry  worked  a  heap  on 
•this  house,  he  mostly  built  it  all,  an'  it's  his,  an'  t'other 
folks'  houses  are  theirs.  That's  Brother  Wright's  over 
yonder,  an'  that's  our  house  beside  the  'Cademy,  most 
everybody  worked  to  get  it  up  and  fix  it  comfortable  for 
Madame.  Old  Mrs.  Ruby,  she  lives  to  herself  in  the 
log  cabin  we  bought  from  Weddell,  we  had  it  moved 
there  a  purpose  over  from  the  Gully,  'cause  she  liked 
to  live  beside  the  spring  so  as  to  get  her  water  handy. 
She  had  a  little  mite  of  money  which  we  used  in  buy- 
in'  stock." 

"  So  you  do  have  some  things  as  private  property, 
just  like  ordinary  people,"  observed  Olive. 

"  Of  course.  It  would  not  be  any  sort  o'  use  to 
have  everything  in  common,  'cause  folks'  notions 
don't  always  'xactly  suit.  An'  what  we  want  is  to 
have  everybody  free,  so  they  can  be  perfectly  happy 
here.  We  don't  want  to  have  no  strife,  an'  no  jealousy, 
an'  no  ill  feeling  one  towards  another.  But  there 
can't  be  community  in  all  things.  What  sort  o' 
use  would  it  be  for  you  an'  me  to  have  community 
o'  boots  an'  shoes?"  said  Uncle  David  with  a  great 
laugh,  sticking  out  his  enormous  foot  towards  where 


20  PERFECTION  CITY. 

Olive's  dainty  little  slipper  peeped  from  beneath  her 
dress.- 

"  Your  shoes,  my  dear,  wouldn't  go  on  my  two 
fingers,  an'  mine  'ud  be  big  enough  to  make  a  tol'eble 
boat  for  you.  There  couldn't  be  community  in  shoes, 
so  there  ain't  none.  But  with  the  Ian'  it's  different. 
We  all  work  that  for  the  benefit  of  ever}'body,  there 
ain't  no  strugglin'  to  be  fust  an'  get  ahead  o'  one  an- 
other.   "We  are  all  brothers  at  Perfection  City." 

Olive  was  full  of  excitement  when  Ezra  came  back 
at  sun-down. 

"  Just  fancy,  I've  had  my  first  visitor,"  she  said 
as  she  stood  beside  her  husband  while  he  was  watering 
tlie  liorses. 

"Who  was  it?  Mrs.  Ruby?" 

"  Xo,  it  was  Uncle  David,"  and  she  gave  a  merry 
little  laugh. 

"  "Well,  and  how  did  you  like  him  ?  " 

"  I  think  he  is  just  charming.  lie  is  just  like  a 
piece  of  granite  or  oak  or  something  of  that  sort,  not 
smooth  or  shiny  on  the  outside,  but  solid  and  sound 
to  the  very  core.     Oh!  I  shall  love  Uncle  David." 

"  That's  right.    He  is  a  good  man,"  said  Ezra. 

"And  you  know?  he  has  made  me  understand 
about  Perfection  City.  I  shan't  want  to  laugli  at  it 
any  more,  and  I  don't  care  if  anybody  else  does.  It 
was  real  brave  of  you  showing  your  colours  plain  and 
sticking  to  them,"  said  Olive  with  a  skip  and  a  clap 
of  her  little  hands. 


CHAPTER   III. 

.     ■  SISTER    MARY    WINKLE. 

The  very  next  morning  just  as  she  was  washing 
her  potatoes  for  dinner,  another  visitor  called  upon 
Olive,  a  visitor  of  whose  sex  she  was  for  a  moment 
or  two  in  doubt.  The  visitor  wore  a  large  sunbonnet, 
a  check  blouse,  and  a  pair  of  Zouave  trowsers  fastened 
in  at  the  ankle. 

"How  do  you  do,  OHve  Weston?"  said  this  per- 
son, in  a  deep  serious  voice.  Olive,  who  had  not  seen 
her,  started  in  surprise  and  dropped  her  potato  into 
the  basin. 

"  I  am  Mary  Winkle.  That's  my  house  over  yon- 
der." 

"  Oh,  the  Wrights'!  Yes,  to  be  sure.  Come  in  and 
sit  down,"  said  Olive  hospitably,  although  she  felt 
considerable  surprise  at  her  visitor's  appearance. 

"  You  don't  wear  the  reformed  dress  yet,  I  see," 
said  Mary  Winkle. 

"No,  I  don't,"  acquiesced  Olive. 

"Shall  you?" 

"I   don't  know.     I   have   not  thought   about  it. 

81 


22  PERFECTION  CITY. 

I  suppose  there  is  no  regulation  about  what  one  wears 
on  the  prairie.  There  is  no  fashion  here  I  suppose," 
said  OHve  poHtely. 

"  'No,  only  the  fashion  of  common  sense." 

"  Do  all  the  ladies  dress  that  way,  Miss  Winkle?  " 
inquired  Olive. 

"  Only  my  daughter  and  myself." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  I  should  have  said  Mrs.  Win- 
kle," said  Olive,  in  some  confusion. 

"  No,  you  shouldn't,"  replied  her  visitor.  "  I  am 
not  Mrs.  Winkle." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  am  very  stupid.  Would  you  tell  me 
then  how  I  should  address  you.    I  don't  understand." 

"  Address  me  as  Mary  Winkle,  and  my  husband 
as  John  Wright." 

Olive  stared  at  her. 

"Are  you  not  Mrs.  Wright  then?" 

"  No,  certainly  not.  I  scorn  the  title.  It  is  a 
symbol  of  subjection.  I  did  not  lose  my  identity  when 
I  chose  to  marry.  I  am  the  same  Mary  Winkle  that 
I  was  before,  and  as  such  I  desire  to  retain  the  name 
that  I  always  possessed.  Why  should  I  take  .a  new 
name  simply  because  I  am  married?" 

"  It  is  usual,"  stammered  Olive.  "  I  shouldn't  like 
not  to  be  called  Mrs.  Weston.  It  is  so  confusing,  you 
see." 

"  Mere  custom  and  prejudice.  Why  should  not 
your  husband  take  your  name,  instead  of  its  always 
being  the  wife  who  is  absorbed?  " 


SISTER  MARY  WINKLE.  23 

*'  I  don't  know,  but  I  never  heard  of  it  before." 

"  Ah,  that  is  one  of  the  first  changes  that  must 
be  made  when  women  get  their  rights,"  observed  Mary 
Winkle. 

"  But  I  don't  want  the  change  one  bit.  I  much 
prefer  the  old  way." 

"  I  dare  say.  Slaves  often  feel  no  want  of  free- 
dom." 

"  I'm  not  a  slave,"  said  Olive,  flushing  angrily. 
**  You  cannot  be  in  the  least  acquainted  with  my  hus- 
band." 

"  Oh,  I  know  your  husband  very  well,  an  excel- 
lent man  in  many  respects,  but  narrow  in  others; 
however,  I  referred  to  general  slavery,  to  custom,  not 
to  any  individual  slavery  in  your  case." 

"  I  don't  think  there  is  any  good  in  destroying 
customs,  unless  there  is  something  better  to  be  got 
in  a  new  custom." 

"  Ah  yes,  no  doubt  it  seems  so  to  you;  but  there 
is  inestimable  gain  in  the  mere  protest  against  tyran- 
ny. Why,  that's  what  we  are  all  here  for,  to  protest 
against  everything  and  live  a  life  of  freedom." 

"  And  freedom  may  as  well  begin  here  and  now, 
and  in  its  name  I  will  wear  long  dresses  and  be  called 
Mrs.  Weston,  because  I  prefer  the  older  customs," 
said  Olive  with  some  archness. 

"  Yes,  you  may  do  as  you  like,  but  you  will  get 
heartily  sick  of  those  skirts,  I  can  tell  you." 

Olive  remembering  sundry  pretty  dresses  she  had 


24  PERFECTION  CITY. 

in  her  trunk,  was  privately  convinced  she  would  not 
get  sick  of  them. 

"I  haven't  seen  Madame  yet/'  she  said,  "and  I 
feel  the  greatest  curiosity  about  her.  She  must  be 
a  remarkable  woman  by  all  accounts.  Does  she  wear 
the  same  sort  of  dress  as  you  do  ?  " 

"  No,  she  doesn't,  and  it's  a  great  pity,  for  her 
influence  would  be  very  great  with  the  other  women. 
I  suppose  you'll  see  her  to-morrow  evening.  You'll 
come  to  the  Academy,  won't  you?  " 

"  l"es,  certainly,  if  Ezra  is  going.  I  should  like  to 
go  ever  so  much  and  see  all  my  neighbours,  but  per- 
haps he  will  be  too  tired.  He  does  work  dreadfully 
hard,  it  seems  to  me." 

"  He  ought  to  do  a  little  brain-work.  Wright 
says  nothing  rests  one  like  brain-work.  He's  been 
doing  a  spell  of  that  lately.  He's  been  writing  an 
essay  on  ^  The  Ultimate  Perfection  of  Being.'  He'll 
most  likely  read  some  of  it  to-morrow  at  the  Acad- 
emy." 

"  I  shouldn't  think  essays  would  be  much  use  in 
planting  corn,"  said  Olive  rather  tartly,  remembering 
at  what  hour  her  husband  had  come  from  the  har- 
rowing. 

"  Wright  and  I,  we  don't  believe  in  making  a  god 
of  work.  We  have  a  much  higher  ideal  of  life  than 
that.  We  don't  want  anything  sordid  in  our  lives, 
Wright  and  I.  We  haven't  any  sympathy  with  this 
restless  striving  to  get  on.     One  of  the  great  advan- 


SISTER  MARY  WINKLE.  25 

tages  of  Perfection  City  is  that  we  all  have  time  for 
the  cultivation  of  our  higher  natures." 

"  Just  now,"  said  Olive,  "  my  husband  seems  to 
have  no  thought  in  his  mind  but  the  cultivation  of 
that  field  over  there.  He  is  at  work  early  and  late. 
No  person  could  possibly  work  harder  for  himself 
or  his  individual  advantage  than  he  does  for  the  Com- 
munity." 

"There's  just  a  case  in  point,"  remarked  Mary 
Winkle  complacently.  "  I  always  thought  your  hus- 
band very  narrow  in  his  views.  He  slaves  away  at 
this  corn-planting  as  if  that  were  the  chief  end  and 
object  of  his  existence.  It  is  all  very  well  to  work 
at  times,  but  working  in  order  to  store  up  food  for 
the  body  is  the  lowest  possible  form  that  human  activ- 
ity can  take." 

"It  is  the  most  indispensable  form,"  remarked 
Olive. 

"  By  no  means,"  replied  Mary  Winkle  with  pre- 
cision. "  That  observation  would  seem  to  indicate  that 
you  are  more  narrow  even  than  your  husband.  The 
body  is  merely  the  servant  of  the  mind:  the  mind 
needs  to  be  fed,  and  it  is  the  food  for  the  mind  which 
your  husband  appears  so  careless  about  providing. 
Fortunately  for  Perfection  City,  Wright  has  taken 
thought  on  that  subject.  Wright  has  a  very  high 
standard  of  what  is  necessary  for  the  mind." 

"  It  appears  to  me,"  said  Olive  with  a  snap  of  her 
black  eyes  and  an  ominous  red  spot  on  her  cheeks. 


26  PERFECTION  CITY. 

"  that  if  we  all  lived  up  to  your  standard,  it  might 
very  well  happen  that  by  next  winter  our  minds  might 
be  uncomfortably  full  and  our  stomachs  correspond- 
ingly empty.  If  Ezra  did  not  plougli  and  get  his  land 
ready  for  planting  as  fast  as  mortal  man  can,  how 
is  the  land  to  be  got  ready?  It  doesn't  plough  itself, 
does  it,  even  at  Perfection  City?" 

"  I  see  you  will  have  to  get  rid  of  many  prejudices," 
observed  ^lary  Winkle.  "  Of  course  community-life 
only  comes  easy  to  people  who  are  adapted  to  it. 
Wright  and  I  are  adapted.  We  like  it.  We  shall  stay 
here.  We  shall  succeed  therefore.  You  and  Brother 
Ezra  will  have  to  go  through  a  season  of  training 
first.  Y^ou  both  need  it.  I  dare  say  you  may  hear 
something  that  you  will  find  useful  to  you  to-mor- 
row from  Wright.  I  will  just  mention  to  him  where 
your  particular  blindness  seems  to  lie.  Wright  is  a 
very  profound  thinker.  He  has  given  great  thought 
to  the  subject  of  the  Ultimate  Perfection  of  People. 
He  can  explain  every  step  in  the  training  of  a  perfect 
communist,  and  show  clearly  just  where  everybody 
has  hitherto  gone  wrong  in  their  attempts  to  realize 
their  ideal,  and  exactly  what  mistakes  they  have  made. 
I  am  glad  you  have  come  in  time  to  hear  his  paper; 
it  will  be  of  lasting  good  to  you.  Y"ou  will  be  able 
to  profit  by  it,  because  you  are  in  great  need  of  proper 
training.  I  dare  say  you  need  it  more  even  than  Ezra. 
For,  after  all,  he  must  have  learned  something  from 
us  in  the  year  he  has  haun  witli  us." 


CHAPTEE   IV. 

MADAME   MOROZOFF-SMITH. 

The  Academy  at  Perfection  City  was  not  a  pre- 
tentious building  in  anything  but  in  name.  It  was 
a  plain  wooden  house,  almost  square,  having  a  window 
on  three  sides  and  a  door  on  the  fourth,  facing  south. 
Inside  there  were  several  rough  benches,  two  tables, 
an  iron  stove,  and  a  large  easy  chair,  with  a  small  desk 
beside  it,  upon  which  stood  a  pair  of  candles.  There 
were  no  curtains  and  no  carpets,  absolutely  no  at- 
tempts at  beautifying  the  place.  But  the  board-floor 
was  clean. 

Olive  dressed  herself  in  a  flutter  of  expectation 
for  her  first  visit  to  this  abode  of  wisdom. 

"  I  expect  everybody  will  be  there,  because  they'll 
all  want  to  see  you,  little  woman,"  said  her  husband, 
who,  tired  as  he  was  after  his  day's  work,  changed 
his  earth-stained  clothes  for  a  fresh  suit.  Olive  wore 
a  white  dress  with  lavender  ribbons,  and  looked  as 
fresh  as  a  daisy  as  she  tripped  along  daintily  holding 
up  her  skirts.  She  wore  the  nattiest  of  boots  over 
the  neatest  of  feet,  altogether  a  bright  and  unexpected 

8  27 


2S  PERFECTION  CITY. 

siglit  upon  the  glum-looking  prairie.  It  was  a  quar- 
ter of  a  mile  to  the  Academy,  down  a  road  hardly 
more  than  a  cart-track,  and  across  a  dry  gully  where 
there  were  no  stepping  stones. 

As  Ezra  had  predicted,  everybody  had  turned  out 
to  welcome  the  new  bride.  Uncle  David  met  her  at 
the  door. 

"  Wal,  little  girl,"  he  said,  "  we're  all  a-looking  out 
for  you.  Here's  Sister  Mary  Winkle,  you've  seen 
her,  and  this  is  her  husband,  Brother  AVright." 

Olive  shook  hands  with  a  dark,  broad-shouldered 
man  who  spoke  in  snaps  as  if  he  had  been  a  dog.  He 
had  glittering  white  teeth. 

"  We've  been  looking  to  have  your  husband  back," 
he  said. 

"  I'm  sure  you're  very  kind,"  murmured  Olive 
conventionally. 

"  We  needed  him  for  the  ploughing,"  snapped 
Wright. 

"  Oh  indeed!  "  said  Olive  less  cordially. 

"  This  is  the  busy  time  of  the  year." 

"  All  times  a-year  is  the  busy  time  in  my  'pinion 
and  'sperience,"  said  Uncle  David  smiling  compre- 
hensively, '^  but  most  everyone  spares  time  one  way 
or  'nother  to  get  married  if  they  have  a  mind  that 
way.  Come  along  an'  see  Brother  and  Sister  Dummy. 
That  ain't  their  name,  but  we  call  'em  so,  they're 
deaf  and  mostly  dumb  now.  They're  real  good  folks 
too." 


MADAME  MOROZOFF-SMITH.  29 

A  sad-eyed  red-haired  man  shook  hands  with  her, 
and  a  sad-eyed  woman  kissed  her.  They  put  into 
her  hand  a  slip  of  paper  on  which  was  written  a  mes- 
sage of  welcome. 

"  They  can  talk  a  little,  but  they  can't  hear  one 
mite,  and  they  don't  like  to  talk,  because  they  can't 
tell  when  they  are  whispering  and  when  they  are 
yelling,  and  it  makes  strangers  jump  to  hear  them 
sometimes." 

Olive  felt  drawn  towards  this  poor  silent  pair,  but 
did  not  know  how  to  express  her  sympathy.  There 
were  others  in  the  room,  but  before  she  had  time  to 
speak  to  them  the  door  opened  and  Madame  Morozoff- 
Smith  entered,  and  from  that  moment  she  seemed  to 
see  no  one  else.  Madame  was  a  remarkable  looking 
woman.  She  was  tall,  large  and  fair,  with  keen  grey 
eyes,  full  red  lips,  and  a  mass  of  pale  gold  hair  rising 
over  a  forehead  that  was  broad  and  smooth.  A  woman 
of  indeterminate  age  with  an  air  of  yoiithfulness  and 
command  about  her.  She  was  dressed  in  a  dark  dress 
and  wore  a  bright  bunch  of  ribbons  in  her  hair.  It 
looked  at  first  sight  like  a  rose,  only  roses  don't  grow 
on  the  prairie  in  the  month  of  May.  She  came  straight 
to  where  Olive  Avas  standing.  She  gave  one  the  im- 
pression of  floating,  for  although  a  large  woman,  she 
walked  so  lightly  as  to  make  no  noticeable  sound  on 
the  wooden  floor.  Taking  Olive's  two  hands  in  her 
warm  large  grasp,  she  kissed  her  on  the  forehead 
murmuring    "  Welcome,"    and    then    stepping    back 


30  PERFECTION  CITY. 

she  said  in  a  clear  voice  that  vibrated  through  the 
room: 

"  Ah!  now  I  understand  that  hurried  courtship 
and  swift  marriage.  I  see  what  it  was  in  Brother 
Ezra's  case.  It  was  love  at  first  sight.  You  are  very 
pretty.  I  suppose,  however,  you  know  that  very  well. 
It  is  a  secret  seldom  kept  from  young  girls." 

Olive  was  so  startled  by  this  unexpected  address 
that  she  blushed  to  the  roots  of  her  black  hair.  Ezra 
stood  looking  down  at  his  little  wife  smiling  with 
pleasure.  He  was  delighted  to  think  that  Madame 
found  her  so  pretty.  He  had  indeed  thought  her  beau- 
tiful from  the  first  moment  when  his  eyes  had  rested 
on  her,  but  then  he  loved  her,  and  it  was  but  natural 
that  in  his  eyes  she  should  be  lovely.  Madame,  how- 
ever, judged  her  unprejudiced,  and  yet  if  his  delighted 
heart  had  room  for  one  regret,  it  was  that  Madame's 
praise  had  been  so  very  public.  If  she  had  only  whis- 
pered it  softly  to  him  in  that  wonderful  voice  of  hers, 
which  had  often  caught  up  his  inmost  thoughts  and 
clothed  them  in  words  of  eloquence,  how  much  more 
precious  would  the  tribute  have  been.  He  dismissed 
the  half-formed  regret  as  unworthy,  and  took  himself 
to  task  for  not  exulting  at  this  moment.  The  meeting 
of  Madame  and  Olive  was  an  event  in  his  life.  Olive, 
his  sweet  little  rose-bud  of  a  wife,  on  the  one  hand, 
and  Madame,  his  venerated,  nay  his  worshipped,  friend, 
on  the  other.  The  one,  the  companion  of  his  heart: 
the  other,  the  guide  of  his  mind  who  embodied  in  her- 


MADAME  MOROZOFF-SMITH.  3^ 

self  all  that  he  held  highest  in  the  possibilities  of 
womanhood,  his  true  and  noble-hearted  friend,  his 
inspired  leader.  How  blest  was  the  portion  of  him 
who  stood  that  night  the  husband  of  the  one,  the  dis- 
ciple of  the  other!  Ezra's  dark  eyes  shone  with  joy, 
and  his  square  chin  quivered  with  the  smiles  that 
lurked  about  his  lips.  He  was  not  a  handsome  man, 
perhaps,  but  there  was  something  grand  in  the  large 
full  forehead,  strong  eyebrows,  and  deep  dark  eyes. 
His  massive  frame  bespoke  strength,  which  in  itself 
has  always  a  great  attraction  for  women. 

When  Madame  had  addressed  those  words  to  the 
new  sister  all  the  members  of  the  Community  had 
scanned  her  narrowly,  for  the  opinion  of  their  leader 
had  immense  weight  with  the  Pioneers.  The  men 
looked  at  Olive  with  increased  admiration,  and  the 
women  with  envy.  Only  Uncle  David  appeared  dis- 
appointed and  wiped  his  face  many  times  with  his  red 
pocket-handkerchief  saying,  "  Wal,  wal,  now,''  in  a 
tone  of  earnest  reproof. 

After  this  bewildering  introduction  in  which  her 
vanity  had  been  not  a  little  excited,  Olive  received 
a  salutary  check  from  the  words  of  Brother  Wright. 

"Before  beginning  to  read  my  paper,"  said  he, 
"  I  should  like  to  say  a  few  words  to  the  new  sister 
who  has  come  among  us.  We  expect  soon  to  be  hav- 
ing new  members  join  us  so  fast  that  perhaps  we 
shall  not  be  able  to  specially  mark  the  entrance  of 
each.     But  in  this  case  there  are  peculiar  reasons  for 


32  PERFECTION  CITY. 

exhortation.  Sister  Olive  lias  not  Joined  under  ordi- 
nary circnmstances.  She  did  not,  like  the  rest  of  us, 
feel  a  call  to  the  higher  life:  she  only  came  out  of 
personal  affection  for  one  of  the  members  of  the  Com- 
munity." 

Olive  looked  with  a  shy  glance  towards  her  hus- 
band, who  took  her  hand  in  his  for  a  moment,  while 
Uncle  David,  who  sat  at  the  end  of  the  room  near 
Madame,  said  in  a  loud  voice: 

"  Quite  right,  quite  right,  couldn't  ha'  had  a  better 
reason." 

"  Therefore  it  becomes  our  duty  to  impress  upon 
our  new  sister  the  principles  which  have  been  active 
in  forming  this  Community,"  said  Brother  Wright, 
without  paying  any  heed  to  Uncle  David's  interrup- 
tion. "  Perfection  City  has  been  founded  to  teach 
the  world  how  to  live.  The  old  civilization  has  been 
tried  and  found  wanting.  It  is  time  for  a  new  one. 
Perfection  City  is  the  beginning  of  a  new  era.  We 
are  the  Pioneers  of  a  new  world.  We  shall  show 
the  old  and  worn-out  world  how  to  banish  evil  from 
life.  We  cannot  perhaps  banish  all  physical  evil,  and 
for  a  time  at  least  there  may  be  sickness  even  among 
us,  but  we  shall  at  once  set  about  freeing  ourselves 
from  all  the  other  troubles  of  life.  There  is  nobody 
in  Perfection  City  who  will  get  rich,  and  nobody  will 
ever  be  poor.  We  are  all  alike,  and  we  shall  none  of 
us  envy  our  neighbours  his  belongings,  simply  because 
everything  belongs  to  all.     The  lesson  we  have  to 


MADAME  MOROZOFF-SMITH.  83 

teach  is  the  grandest  the  world  ever  saw,  and  when 
men  know  what  it  is,  I  foresee  a  future  before  Per- 
fection City  greater  than  that  of  any  other  city  of  the 
world.  Rome  lasted  a  good  long  while,  but  Rome 
didn't  possess  the  vital  spark  of  life:  Rome  wasn't 
communistic,  therefore  Rome  fell.  Perfection  City 
won't  fall  like  that,  but  will  go  on  teaching  the  world 
after  we,  its  founders,  are  all  dead.  But  our  memories 
will  live  for  the  great  things  that  we  taught  and 
through  our  example  have  made  possible." 

Brother  Wright  stopped  for  a  few  seconds,  and 
Uncle  David  said  admiringly, 

"  You  have  a  fine  command  of  words,  Brother 
Wright,  and  you  have  a  way  of  making  things  sound 
uncommon  grand.  It  always  does  me  good  to  hear 
you  talk  of  the  grand  future  of  our  City;  but  we'll 
have  to  get  up  some  houses,  and  bigger  ones,  'fore 
folks  'nil  believe  us." 

Uncle  David  was  as  simple  as  a  child,  or  some 
of  his  hearers  might  have  suspected  a  sarcasm  in  his 
words. 

"Rome  wasn't  built  in  a  day,  as  I've  heard  say," 
remarked  Brother  Green,  with  a  strong  English  ac- 
cent, "and  I  shall  be  glad  if  our  little  village  ever 
grows  to  half  its  power  and  honour." 

"  Brother  Green,  I  should  refuse  to  have  anything 
to  say  to  the  founding  of  another  city  like  Rome," 
interrupted  Brother  Wright  with  decisiveness. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  Ezra  in  a  shy  hesitating 


34  PERFECTION  CITY. 

manner,  "  that  what  we  are  here  for  is  to  demonstrate, 
if  we  can,  how  a  better  life  can  be  lived  here  than 
is  possible  in  the  older  communities,  where  circum- 
stances are  too  strong  and  too  hampering  for  people 
to  rise  above  them.  The  older  civilization  has  done 
much,  it  has  raised  our  race  to  a  high  standard.  What 
we  want  to  do  is  to  carry  on  that  work,  and  above 
all  to  bring  everyone  within  reach  of  the  best  that  life 
has  to  offer.  The  older  civilization  has  left  so  many 
stranded  ones,  who  have  lost  their  strength  in  the  wild 
struggle;  while  we  hope  to  bring  all  along  equally 
and  give  to  each  a  share  of  happiness.  As  usual,  my 
friends,  when  I  try  to  express  my  ideas  I  find  that 
someone  else  has  already  put  them  into  incomparably 
finer  language  than  I  can  ever  command.  It  has  been 
so  again.  I  find  that  our  great  poet,  Walt  Whitman, 
has  said  better  than  I  can  what  I  feel.  May  I  quote 
him  to  you? 

*  Have  the  elder  races  halted  1 
Do  they  droop  and  end  their  lesson,  wearied  over  there  beyond 

the  seas  f 
We  take  up  the  task  eternal,  and  the  burden  and  the  lesson, 

Pioneers !  0  pioneers ! ' " 

Ezra  sat  down  after  reciting  his  verse,  and  his  wife 
looked  at  him  with  glowing  eyes.  He  had  not  said 
much,  but  his  words  had  seemed  to  her  so  much  fuller 
of  thought  and  feeling  than  the  easy  monotonous  flow 
from  Brother  Wright.  That  individual  himself  had 
not  received  Ezra's  remarks  with  quite  so  much  de- 


MADAME  MOROZOFF-SMITH.  35 

light.  It  was  Brother  Wright's  nature  to  see  fight  and 
contradiction  in  all  things,  even  the  most  pacific.  His 
eyes  would  flash  and  his  black  beard  bristle  in  argu- 
ment, almost  as  if  he  were  a  dog  preparing  to  fight, 
and  if  one  might  be  permitted  to  liken  any  Pioneer 
to  one  of  the  canine  species,  the  bull-dog  would  un- 
doubtedly be  the  variety  most  nearly  resembling  Broth- 
er Wright. 

"  I  don't  see  that  we  need  be  beholden  to  anyone, 
poet  or  otherwise,"  he  said  sharply,  "  for  our  opinions 
or  sentiments.  We  have  found  them  for  ourselves, 
just  as  we  have  founded  our  City.  It  is  our  work, 
both  opinions  and  practice." 

"  I  think,"  said  Madame,  rising  and  speaking  with 
a  deep  clear  voice,  which  a  slight  foreign  accent 
seemed  to  render  only  the  more  attractive,  "  I  think 
I  see  better  than  they  do  themselves  where  our  two 
brothers  agree.  Brother  Ezra,  with  that  diffidence 
which  strong  natures  often  exhibit,  thought  he  found 
in  the  lines  of  another  man  his  own  ideas  more  suc- 
cinctly embodied  than  they  would  have  been  in  Jiis 
own  words.  Brother  Ezra  should  not  doubt  his  pow- 
ers. Speech  comes  slowly  to  those  who  most  deeply 
think,  but  he  should  consider  how  much  we  benefit 
by  his  words  and  how  grateful  we  are  to  him  for  them. 
Brother  Wright,  it  seems  to  me  that  you,  perhaps, 
do  not  sufficiently  appreciate  the  efforts  of  others  who 
have  gone  before  us  on  this  road.  We  are  not  the  first 
who  have  been  discontented  with  the  actual  order  of 


36  PERFECTION  CITY. 

things,  nor  are  we  the  first  who  have  striven  to  make 
life  brighter  and  easier.  In  all  ages  there  liave  been 
those  penetrated  with  these  thoughts,  and  in  different 
ways  men,  and  women  too,  have  striven  earnestly, 
devotedly,  to  realize  these  ideas.  Some  indeed  have 
imagined  they  had  found  a  solution  of  all  doubts  and 
difficulties,  and  have  in  perfect  good  faith  and  self- 
satisfaction  buried  themselves  in  convents  and  monas- 
teries and  have  ^  roU'd  the  psalm  to  wintry  skies,'  and 
have  ^  built  them  fanes  of  fruitless  prayer.'  We  have 
come  to  different  conclusions  by  following  a  different 
road.  We  do  not  shut  ourselves  out  of  the  world, 
rather  we  endeavour  to  raise  it  by  showing  a  living 
example  of  what  may  be  done  now,  in  this  age,  by 
human  beings  such  as  we  are.  But  if  we  are  to  suc- 
ceed we  must  not  reject  the  experience,  nor  fail  to 
profit  by  the  example,  of  others  who  have  gone  before 
us  and  felt  earnestly  on  this  subject." 

Madame  paused  for  a  moment,  and  her  keen  glance 
rested  upon  the  small  assembly.  Each  individual 
seeded  to  feel  that  she  was  looking  at  him  or  at 
her.  Certainly  each  member  was  looking  intently  at 
her.  She  seldom  made  speeches  to  them;  she  only 
interposed  her  observations,  as  on  this  occasion,  be- 
tween the  speakers;  but  the  last  word  usually  remained 
with  her. 

"  Brother  Wright,  will  you  now  read  us  your  paper, 
as  the  evening  is  passing  and  we  are  all  anxious  to 
hear  it.    What  is  the  title  and  subject?  " 


MADAME  MOROZOFF-SMITH.  37 

'  "  The  Ultimate  Perfection  of  Being  is  the  title," 
said  Brother  Wright,  "  and  I  think  that  pretty  well 
sums  up  the  subject  also." 

So  apparently  thought  the  audience,  which 
resigned  itself  to  a  severe  mental  excursion  into 
the  unknown  regions  of  Brother  Wright's  imagi- 
native metaphysics.  Some  of  them  fell  out  very 
soon,  finding  the  road  harder  to  follow  than  they 
had  foreseen;  but  Brother  Wright  kept  sturdily 
on,  unheeding  the  signs  of  weakness  and  disaffec- 
tion as  betrayed  by  movings  of  feet  and  stifled 
yawns. 

Olive,  not  being  able  to  understand  what  Brother 
Wright  was  saying,  employed  herself  in  watching 
Madame,  who  sat  motionless  beside  her  table,  resting 
her  head  upon  her  supple  white  hand.  At  her  feet 
lay  what  seemed  to  be  a  large  brown  rug,  but  was  in 
fact  her  dog  Balthasar,  a  blood-hound,  who  always 
stayed  with  her  and  was  as  gentle  as  a  lamb,  notwith- 
standing his  name  and  breed. 

"  Brother  Green!  That's  the  second  time  you've 
snored,"  suddenly  exclaimed  Brother  Wright  in  the 
midst  of  his  reading.  Everybody  was  wide  awake  in 
an  instant.  Madame  hid  a  smile  with  her  hand,  but 
not  before  Olive  had  noticed  it. 

"  Brother  Green  is  perhaps  tired.  His  work  is  very 
hard,"  said  Madame! 

"Well,  the  fact  is  I  had  to  put  a  new  point  to 
the  ploughshare  this  morning  before  I  went  to  fetch 


38  PERFECTION  CITY. 

my  load  of  iron,  and  I  began  work  before  daybreak. 
I  am  very  tired." 

Brother  Green  was  the  blacksmith  of  Perfection 
City,  an  industrious  hard-working  man  who  thought 
life  would  show  him  a  fairer  side  on  the  prairie  than 
it  had  ever  done  in  the  far-away  village  in  Sussex 
where  he  was  born. 

"  I  think  that  it  might  be  better  to  have  our  gath- 
erings rather  shorter  now/'  said  Madame  softly.  "  The 
workers  in  our  little  hive  are  all  tired.  I  wish  I 
could  do  more  of  the  labour  that  is  needed.  I  would 
gladly " 

Madame  was  interrupted  by  a  sharp  rap  on  the 
table,  a  signal  from  Brother  Huntley  that  he  wanted 
to  speak.  He  was  the  deaf  and  dumb  man.  She  in- 
stantly rose  and  bowed  to  him  with  singular  gracious- 
ness.  Madame's  manner  towards  the  deaf  brethren 
was  all  that  was  exquisite.  Huntley  stood  up 
and  began  in  a  voice  almost  inaudible  which  rose 
by  sudden  degrees  to  the  intensity  of  a  steam- 
whistle. 

"  I  want  to  know  when  we're  going  to  get  our 
corn  planted?  We're  behindhand;  most  other  folk's 
corn  is  in  already." 

"  As  usual.  Brother  Huntley  has  something  prac- 
tical to  say,"  observed  Madame. 

"  He  didn't  know  we  were  discussing  quite  an- 
other subject,  else  his  remark  would  have  been  rude 
and  irrelevant,"  said  Wright,  vexed  at  this  cutting 


MADAME  MOROZOFF-SMITH.  39 

into  his  paper  on  the  ultimate  perfection  of  liis  and 
everybody's  being. 

"  I  think  it  would  be  very  useful  to  see  what  we 
can  do  about  the  corn,"  said  the  blacksmith.  "  If  we 
are  late  the  chances  are  there'll  be  another  drought  in 
July,  and  our  crop  won't  be  first-class." 

"Is  anyone's  land  ready  for  planting?"  inquired 
Madame. 

"  None  as  I  know  of,  except  Brother  Dummy's," 
said  Uncle  David,  "  He's  more  forward  nor  anybody: 
always  first  in  work." 

"  Of  course,  poor  deaf  creature!  he  can't  do  any- 
thing but  dumbly  work  like  a "  began  Brother 

Wright. 

"  My  land  is  ready  for  planting,"  burst  in  Brother 
Huntley  with  a  scream. 

"  Then  it  shall  be  planted  to-morrow,"  cried  Ma- 
dame.    "I'll  go  myself." 

"  You!  "  exclaimed  Olive. 

"  Certainly,  child.  Don't  you  think  I  can  work  as 
well  as  any  other  woman?  " 

She  rapidly  wrote  a  few  words  on  a  slip  of  paper 
and  passed  it  to  Brother  Huntley,  who  read  it,  nodded 
with  satisfaction,  and  said:  "  Five  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing! "  in'a  voice  so  low  that  no  one  knew  he  was 
speaking. 

"I  suppose  he  begins  work  about  six?"  said  Ma- 
dame. 

"No,  he  don't,  he's  mighty  spry,"  said  old  Mrs. 


40  PERFECTION  CITY. 

Euby,  who  lived  near  the  Huntleys.  "  I  hear  him 
a-movin'  off  with  his  plough  every  morning  at  five 
by  the  clock.    He's  terrible  sot  on  his  work." 

"  Then  I  shall  be  there  ready  to  go  to  work  at  five 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  I  shall  begin  by  going 
to  bed  now,  so  as  to  be  able  to  give  a  good  day's 
work.     Good-night,  friends  all." 

She  rose,  included  them  all  in  a  sweeping  salute 
and  left  the  room  as  lightly  as  she  had  entered.  Bal- 
thasar  rose  and  slowly  followed  her. 

When  Madame  left  the  room  the  meeting  broke 
up.  No  one  felt  inclined  to  linger  when  she  was  gone. 
It  was  from  her  they  drew  their  interest  in  each  other, 
as  well  as  their  belief  in  themselves  and  in  Perfection 
City.  She  possessed  the  secret  of  influencing  people 
without  seeming  to  do  so.  The  thought  that  she  was 
going  out  on  the  land  at  five  in  the  morning  to  plant 
corn  made  everyone  ten  times  more  eager  to  work 
than  heretofore. 

Wright  and  his  independent  spouse,  Mary  Win- 
kle, were  infected  by  her  example  as  they  went 
home. 

"  Now,  Wright,  don't  you  go  and  do  any  more 
essaying  till  the  crop  is  in.  I  think  people  oughtn't 
to  write  except  in  winter  time,"  said  Mary  Winkle 
with  firmness. 

"  I  never  believed  in  nothing  but  manual  work. 
Why,  if  I  did,  I  should  be  still  slaving  away  on  that 
farm  out  in  Illinois,  instead  of  joining  a  community 


MADAME  MOROZOFF-SMITH.  41 

here  where  one  can  follow  the  bent  of  his  higher  na- 
ture, to  the  advantage  of  his  neighbours  as  well  as  of 
himself,"  said  Wright. 

"  Well,  let  that  be,"  said  Mary  hastily,  recognising 
her  own  words  and  oft-expressed  opinions,  but  not 
quite  knowing  what  to  do  with  them — a  predica- 
ment not  unexampled  among  theoretical  philosophers, 
"but  see  and  be  out  on  the  land  to-morrow  as  early 
as  anyone.  Are  you  ready  for  the  planting?  Because 
I'll  go  out  and  plant  if  you  are." 

"No,  my  drills  won't  be  ready  for  the  planting 
till  day  after  to-morrow." 

"Then  I'll  go  and  plant  on  Brother  Dummy's 
piece  along  with  Madame." 

"  You'd  better  not.  You're  not  fit  for  such  work. 
You'll  get  sick  and  not  be  able  to  cook  me  any  supper 
when  I  come  home." 

"No,  I  shan't  get  sick.  I  ain't  going  to  let 
any  person  beat  me  at  work,  when  I  set  my  mind 
to  it,  and  she  in  her  long  skirts  too!  I'll  show 
her  the  advantage  of  the  reformed  dress  any- 
how." 

Thus  the  Wright  and  Winkle  pair  on  their  way 

home. 

"And  will  she  really  plant  corn?"  asked  Olive  in 
some  curiosity. 

"Certainly    she    will.      Madame    never    despised 

work." 

"Oh!  I  don't  despise  work,  but  she  seems  such 


42  PERFECTION  CITY. 

a  fine  lady  to  go  out  on  the  land  and  plant  corn  jnst 
like  a  negro  woman." 

"  That  is  one  of  the  things  our  life  here  is  intended 
to  show,  dearie,  that  no  one  is  too  grand  for  any  hon- 
est work  that  he  or  she  is  physically  capable  of  per- 


forming. 


y:> 


CHAPTER  Y. 

CORN   PLANTING. 

Punctual  to  the  minute,  there  was  Madame  with 
her  bag  of  corn  on  her  left  arm,  following  Brother 
Huntley  and  his  plough-horses  to  the  field,  in  the 
damp  white  fog  of  sunrise.  Balthasar  in  deep  disgust 
was  there  too,  as  in  duty  bound,  but  he  had  not  a 
wag  for  anybody.  How  could  a  rational  dog  be  in 
good  spirits  at  that  hour  of  the  morning!  Madame 
was  dressed  in  a  short  calico  frock  well  up  to  her 
ankles.  Her  fair  hair  was  loosely  wisped  at  the  back 
of  her  head,  and  a  large  straw  hat,  tied  down  with 
a  green  gauze  veil,  made  her  look  at  once  comfortable 
in  the  fog  and  ready  for  the  expected  sunshine.  There 
were  no  corn-planters  at  Perfection  City:  farm-ma- 
chinery was  not  then  so  plentiful  on  the  prairie  as 
now,  and  money  was  if  possible  scarcer.  Corn  plant- 
ing was,  therefore,  done  by  hand.  Brother  Dummy's 
drills  of  longitude  were  already  ploughed,  and  he 
began  on  the  drills  of  latitude  forthwith.  Into  the 
hollows  made  by  the  intersection  of  these  two  sets 
of  drills  Madame  was  to  drop  three  grains  of  corn, 

4  43 


44  PERFECTION  CITY. 

neither  more  nor  less.  It  is  dizzying  work.  After 
walking  up  and  down  the  drills  for  hours  one  becomes 
oppressed  by  the  never-ceasing  square  constantly  re- 
curring every  two  steps.  The  check  pattern  bewilders 
you,  and  you  begin  to  wonder  how  a  chess-man  would 
feel  if,  endowed  with  sensibility  and  the  power  of 
motion,  he  had  to  march  up  and  down  his  chess-board, 
always  keeping  to  the  lines  for  hours  at  a  stretch. 

About  seven  o'clock  Mary  Winkle  came  upon  the 
scene  and  plodded  and  planted  for  four  hours.  The 
sun  was  blazing  down  upon  them  pitilessly,  and  the 
parching  south  wind  blew  the  fine  black  dust  up  from 
the  rich  dry  soil,  until  their  eyes  and  ears  and  noses 
were  full  of  it. 

The  field  which  they  were  planting  was  on  the 
extreme  verge  of  the  community-land,  far  away  from 
the  houses.  These  were  somewhat  clustered  towards 
the  centre  of  the  holding,  which  consisted  of  two  sec- 
tions or  a  little  over  twelve  hundred  acres.  The 
workers,  therefore,  were  a  long  way  from  home,  con- 
siderably over  a  mile,  and  since  corn  planting  entails 
ceaseless  walking  through  heavy  ploughed  land,  it  had 
been  settled  that  their  dinner  should  be  brought  out 
to  them,  so  as  to  enable  the  workers  to  rest  during 
the  whole  dinner  hour.  Olive  and  Mrs.  Ihxhy  were 
to  supply  the  necessary  food,  and  the  former,  aided 
by  Napoleon  Pompey,  was  to  bring  it  to  the  field  at 
eleven  o'clock.  The  little  grove  of  locust  trees  just 
beginning  to  grow  beside  the  far  spring  was  the  tryst- 


CORN  PLANTING.  45 

ing  place.    Water  would  thus  be  handy,  and  the  horses' 
feed  was  already  put  there  by  the  provident  Brother 
Huntley.    A  little  before  the  hour  Olive  and  her  black 
attendant  arrived  at  the  grove,  bringing  their  load  of 
food,  and  Olive  set  down  her  big  tin  can  with  a  sigh 
of  relief.    Her  arms  ached  with  carrying  it,  for  it  was 
heavy  and  the  way  was  long.    Napoleon  Pompey  had 
carried  two  cans,  each  heavier  than  hers,  but  the  lad 
seemed  to  feel  no  inconvenience  from  the  load.    Olive 
looked  at  him  with  envy  and  thought  with  contempt 
of  her  own  muscles  which  appeared  so  inefficient.    As 
she  unpacked  the  food,  it  seemed  to  her  that  nothing 
she  had   learnt  at   Smyrna  and   could   best   do,   was 
wanted  on  the  prairie,  and  she  remembered  with  some 
amusement  and  not  a  little  bitterness  Mary  Winkle's 
words  about  food  for  the  mind.     At  this  moment  she 
reflected  that  all  the  learning  in  the  world  was  not  so 
much  needed  by  that  philosophical  lady  as  the  very 
gross  and  material  food  which  was  being  taken  out 
of  the  heavy  tin  cans  and  laid  on  the  grass.     The 
working-party,  men,  women  and  horses,  arrived  while 
Olive  was  thus  engaged.     Mary  Winkle  instantly  sat 
down  and  leaned  against  a  tree  and  threw  off  her  sun- 
bonnet.    Her  thin  black  hair  was  matted  down  to  lier 
temples,  her  cheeks  were  yellow,  and  her  eyes  looked 
dull.  Madame  also  took  off  her  hat  and  veil  and  shook 
up  the  coil  of  hair  on  her  head  with  a  sigh  of  relief. 
"Does  your  head  ache  too?"  said  Mary  Winkle 
wearily. 


46  PERFECTION  CITY. 

"  Xot  in  the  least/'  replied  Madame.  "  A  sun- 
bonnet  is  a  bad  shelter  against  heat.  You  should 
wear  a  good  hat,  it  is  far  better." 

"  I  wonder  how  you  can  bear  all  that  hair  on  your 
head.    Why  don't  you  cut  it  off?  " 

"  Why,  it  is  an  admirable  protection  against  both 
heat  and  cold,"  said  ^ladame  laughing.  *'  It  is  my 
greatest  comfort."  She  might  have  added  her  great- 
est beauty. 

The  food  which  Olive  brought  was  most  appetis- 
ing, roast  chicken,  hot  corn-bread,  and  pumpkin  pies, 
with  plenty  of  milk  and  water  to  drink.  Before  eat- 
ing Madame  went  to  the  spring  to  wash  her  hands  and 
face,  and  Mary  Winkle  sat  limply  against  the  tree 
trunk  with  her  eyes  shut. 

"  Eat  something,  it  will  revive  you,"  said  Olive, 
looking  with  pity  upon  her  sallow  cheeks. 

"  I  don't  feel  hardly  able  to  eat,"  she  said  in  a 
weak  voice.  *'  It  seems  to  me  I  don't  ever  want  to 
open  my  eyes  again." 

"  You  are  overworking  yourself,"  said  Olive,  "  you 
sliould  not  attempt  this  field  work:  it  is  beyond  your 
strenfifth." 

"What!  and  lot  her  see  me  give  in?"  said  Mary 
Winkle  with  reviving  spirit. 

Madame  came  up  at  this  moment  looking  as 
fresh  as  a  lily:  she  glanced  sharply  at  Sister  Mary. 
"  You  appear  very  much  exhausted,"  she  re- 
marked. 


CORN  PLANTING.  47 

Sister  Mary  raised  her  head  and  opened  her  eyes, 
but  did  not  speak. 

"  It's  a  pity  you  don't  take  wine,"  she  continued, 
sitting  down  and  beginning  on  her  piece  of  chicken 
with  relish.  "  A  good  glass  of  Burgundy  would  set 
you  ujj  in  no  time." 

Sister  Mary  herself  sat  up  at  this. 

"  I  wouldn't  touch  wine,  no,  not  if  I  was  dying," 
she  said  resolutely. 

Madame  smiled.  "  I  didn't  recommend  it  because 
you  were  dying:  wine  as  everything  else  is  then  use- 
less: but  because  you  look  weak.  I  suggested  a  medi- 
cine." 

"  As  a  medicine  it  is  worse  than  useless,  and  as  a 
drink  I  scorn  to  take  a  rank  poison." 

"  Poisons  are  sometimes  given  as  medicine,  witness 
strychnine  in  small  doses  for  certain  forms  of  dyspep- 
sia, and  I  believe  satisfactorily,"  said  Madame. 

"  Wine  is  worse  than  strychnine,  because  more 
insidious  in  its  action  and  more  liable  to  abuse,"  said 
Mary  Winkle  decisively,  as  she  took  the  tin  cup  of 
milk  and  water  handed  her  by  Olive,  and  drank  it 
with  eagerness. 

"  Well,  at  all  events  admit  that  wine  has  been 
of  benefit  to  you  on  this  occasion,"  observed  Madame 
smiling.  "  I  merely  mentioned  it  to  you,  and  you 
look  already  revived  and  more  like  yourself.  Doesn't 
she.  Sister  Olive  ?  " 

"It  was  the  milk  and  water  did  it,"  said  Sister 


48  PERFECTION  CITY. 

Mary   Winkle   hurriedly,    at    which    [Madame    smiled 
again. 

Brother  Dummy  and  Napoleon  Pompey  now  came 
up  to  the  group  of  women.  They  had  been  watering 
and  unharnessing  the  horses  who  were  at  the  present 
moment  munching  their  corn.  The  white  man,  al- 
though dirty  as  a  ploughman  would  be  after  half  a 
day's  hard  work,  sat  down  promptly  beside  Mary  Win- 
kle and  helped  himself  to  a  leg  of  chicken:  the  negro 
boy  stood  aside  doubtfully,  eyeing  the  group  and  the 
food  with  longing  looks. 

"  Come  along,  N.  P.,"  said  Olive  brightly,  *'  sit 
down  there."  She  pointed  to  a  place  on  the  other 
side  of  Mary  Winkle,  where  there  seemed  a  good  open- 
ing in  front  of  a  huge  piece  of  corn-bread. 

"  No,  if  you  please,"  said  Sister  Mary,  rising  to 
her  feet  with  resentment. 

"Why,  what's  the  matter?"  asked  Olive  flushing 
with  surprise.     "  Napoleon  Pompey  won't  bite  you." 

"  I  have  never  sat  down  to  eat  beside  a  negro,  and 
I  don't  feel  inclined  to  begin  now." 

"  Let  the  lad  sit  beside  me,"  said  Madame  gently. 
"  I  have  seen  people  of  too  many  shades  of  colour 
and  no  colour  to  mind  a  little  extra  dash  of  black. 
Come  here,  boy,  come  and  have  this  piece  of  bread 
and  meat." 

Napoleon  Pompey  grinning  with  all  his  white  teeth 
sprang  to  the  place  beside  Madame,  and  buried  those 
same  teeth  eagerly  in  his  chunk  of  bread.    Mary  Win- 


CORN  PLANTING.  49 

kle  sat  down  again  and  leaned  against  the  tree.  Olive's 
face  took  a  deeper  tinge  of  red  and  her  eyes  snapped. 

"  Do  you  consider  yourself  made  of  such  fine  clay 
that  it  won't  bear  contact  with  a  negro?"  she  asked 
hotly.  "It  seems  to  me  a  little  of  what  used  to  be 
called  Christian  charity  might  come  in  useful  here.  I 
never  aspired  to  the  heights  of  Perfection  City  people, 
but  I  never  refused  the  rights  of  brotherhood  to  the 
negro  simply  because  of  the  curl  of  his  hair  or  the 
colour  of  his  skin." 

"  I  am  quite  willing  to  give  them  all  their  rights 
and  will  be  glad  to  see  them  educated  and  all  that, 
but  I  never  sat  at  dinner  with  a  negro,  and  I  am  not 
going  to  begin  now,"  said  Mary  Winkle  setting  her 
thin  pale  lips  with  the  utmost  stubbornness. 

"  Well,  I  call  it  perfectly  monstrous,"  retorted 
Olive,  "  and  you  setting  yourself  up  to  show  the  better 
life  and  all  the  rest  of  it!  I  should  have  thought  the 
first  thing  to  do  before  teaching  the  highest  perfection 
was  to  practise  the  simplest  justice." 

"  And  you.  Sister  Olive,"  said  Madame's  cool  sweet 
voice,  "  will  have  to  learn  to  respect  the  prejudices 
of  other  people  even  when  they  run  counter  to  your 
most  cherished  theories.  I  do  not  myself  share  the 
feeling  of  repulsion  that  Sister  Mary  has  in  this  case, 
but  I  respect  it.  I  would  suggest  to  you  to  do  the 
same.  It  is  an  inconvenient  fact,  perhaps,  that  people 
do  not  all  think  alike,  but  it  is  one  that  must  be  reso- 
lutely faced  nevertheless." 


50  PERFECTION  CITY. 

Olive  was  silent  under  this  reproof,  but  she  looked 
angrily  at  Mary  Winkle  from  time  to  time,  and  re- 
venged herself  by  feeding  up  Napoleon  Pompey  and 
petting  him  to  an  alarming  extent,  much  to  the  de- 
light of  that  young  darkie  who  ate  until  he  seemed 
to  ooze  out  unctuous  joy. 

Brother  Dummy  ate,  as  he  worked,  silently,  con- 
scientiously, continuously.  Olive  was  amazed  at  the 
amount  he  seemed  able  to  consume,  while  of  milk  and 
water  he  drank  half  a  gallon  or  thereabouts. 

*^  How  can  he  do  it?  "  said  Olive  in  astonishment. 

"  You  forget,"  replied  Madame,  "  that  he  has  been 
following  that  plough  for  six  long  hours,  and  the 
dry  wind  raised  such  a  dust  around  him  that  he  must 
have  swallowed  a  vast  quantity  of  it  in  the  course  of 
the  day.  It  takes  a  good  deal  to  slake  the  thirst  after 
such  a  dust  visitation  as  that." 

When  Brother  Dummy  had  eaten  and  drunk  his 
fill  he  lay  down  on  the  grass  and  went  instantly  to 
sleep.  The  three  women  looked  at  him  for  a  moment 
or  two. 

"  He  seems  to  have  very  little  enjoyment  in  his 
life,"  said  Olive  compassionately. 

"  But  then  he  has  also  few  sorrows,"  said  Madame. 
*'  The  high  lights  are  wanting,  perhaps,  but  so  are  the 
dark  shadows.  His  life  is  like  a  grey  landscape.  It 
has  a  beauty  of  its  own,  but  not  everyone  can  see  it." 

'^  To  live  in  eternal  silence  seems  to  me  the  most 
awful  curse,"  said  Olive. 


CORN  PLANTING.  51 

"I  can  imagine  many  a  worse  one,"  replied  Ma- 
dame, looking  out  from  among  the  few  bare  trees 
away  across  the  open  prairie. 

"  What  could  be  worse?  " 

"Well,  for  example,  to  know  that  someone  you 
loved  did  not  love  you.  To  have  to  shut  up  your  heart 
within  iron  doors,  and  never  open  them  to  let  it  out. 
That  would  be  worse  than  to  be  denied  the  power  of 
speech,  which  after  all  can  now  be  supplemented  in 
many  ways  by  artificial  means.  Brother  Huntley  is 
not  actively  unhappy,  I  sliould  judge.  He  and  his 
wife  have  always  appeared  to  me  to  be  a  very  united 
couple." 

"They  cannot  quarrel,  at  all  events,"  said  Olive. 

"No,  not,  at  least,  in  the  ordinary  way,"  replied 
Madame. 

When  Brother  Dummy  awoke  after  his  little 
snooze,  he  got  up,  looked  at  the  sun  to  see  what  time 
of  day  it  was,  and  then  signed  to  Napoleon  Pompey 
to  rouse  up.  That  young  person  was  lethargic,  owing 
to  his  anaconda-like  meal,  accordingly  Brother  Dum- 
my roused  him  with  his  foot.  The  darkie  rolled  over 
and  said  "  Yah!  "  and  started  for  the  horses,  who  were 
nodding  over  their  corncobs,  now  nibbled  down  to 
the  smallest  dimensions.  Olive,  whose  resentment  at 
the  sUght  put  upon  Napoleon  Pompey  by  Mary  Win- 
kle urged  her  to  identify  herself  with  the  negro  boy, 
walked  away  with  him  and  Brother  Dummy  to  watch 
the  hitching  up.    Madame  employed  herself  in  throw- 


52  PERFECTION  CITY. 

ing  scraps  of  bread  to  Balthasar,  who  would  have  much 
preferred  eating  the  chicken  bones,  only  that  was  a 
debauch  not  permitted  to  a  dog  of  his  manners.  Mary 
AVinkle  looked  hopelessly  along  those  weary  furrows, 
up  and  down  which  it  would  be  her  duty  to  march 
again,  dropping  her  seeds  of  corn  as  before. 

"Are  3'ou  going  to  work  all  the  afternoon?"  she 
asked  of  her  companion. 

"  Yes,  I  think  so.  We  shall  get  this  field  planted 
and  covered  in  by  sun-down,  I  should  think.  And 
that  will  be  a  great  piece  of  work  done.  We  cannot 
afford  to  let  the  individualists  beat  us  at  corn  planting, 
can  we?  We  must  do  at  least  as  well  as  they,  and  I 
should  hope  w^e  might  do  better." 

"  I  don't  know  how  you  can  stand  so  much  heat 
and  hard  work,"  said  Mary,  "  and  in  that  dress  too. 
Why,  if  I  were  to  attempt  to  work  in  long  skirts  I 
should  be  dead  in  a  week." 

"  I  don't  mind  my  dress  at  all,"  said  Madame. 
"  It  never  bothers  me.    I  don't  think  about  it." 

"  But  don't  you  think  about  it  when  your  back 
aches?  " 

"  It  never  does." 

"  I  don't  understand  it,"  says  Mary  once  more. 

"  I  suspect  that  the  reason  you  American  women 
find  your  dress  such  a  burden  is  because  you  are  so 
weak  yourselves,"  said  Madame. 

"  American  women  accomplish  as  much  or  more 
than  any  others,  I  should  say,"  observed  Mary. 


CORN  PLANTING.  53 

"  Precisely,  but  not  from  their  muscular  strength. 
They  work  out  of  their  nerves,  and  that  is  why  they 
never  last  any  length  of  time." 

Madame  finished  her  day's  work  at  six  o'clock,  and 
then  walked  home  humming  a  German  dance  tune  to 
herself.  Mary  Winkle  stopped  at  four  o'clock,  and 
dragged  herself  home  to  bed  with  a  fearsome  headache, 
still  puzzling  how  it  was  that  her  perfect  dress  had 
not  done  better  for  her  in  that  day's  trial.  She  did 
not  know  that  all  her  scientific  dressing  was  as  noth- 
ing compared  with  the  robust  vitality,  which  Madame 
brought  with  her  from  another  land,  and  which,  run- 
ning in  such  vigorous  beats  through  her  blood,  was 
inherited  from  generations  of  strong  healthy  ances- 
tors. Madame's  father  was  a  Eussian  colonel  noted 
for  his  size  and  strength  and  also  for  his  wildness. 
Her  mother  was  a  pretty  English  girl,  who  had  noth- 
ing to  bequeath  to  her  daughter  but  health,  personal 
beauty,  and  this  piece  of  advice:  "  Never  stake  your 
happiness  on  any  man,  it  always  brings  disaster  to 
the  woman."  Mary  Winkle's  mother,  on  the  other 
hand,  was  a  nervous  invalid  at  thirty,  and  her  father 
was  a  dyspeptic  dietetic  reformer,  who  pinned  his  salva- 
tion on  never  eating  salt.  Small  wonder,  therefore, 
that  the  daughter  of  the  one  pair  should  be  able  to 
plant  corn  all  day  long  and  walk  lightly  home  at  even- 
ing, while  the  offspring  of  the  other  pair  could  do 
only  three  quarters  of  a  day's  work,  after  which  head- 
ache and  nervous  exhaustion. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

NON-EESISTANCE. 

It  was  the  custom  of  the  Pioneers  to  send  once  a 
week  to  Union  Mills  in  order  to  do  their  necessary 
marketing  and  to  get  the  post,  which  came  there  twice 
a  week  from  Kansas  City  by  stage-coach.  The  sub- 
ject of  the  post  was  one  that  had  been  rather  hotly 
debated  at  Perfection  City,  although  to  the  outsider 
it  would  seem  a  very  harmless  topic,  and  not  fruitful 
of  division.  The  fact  was,  however,  that  there  was 
only  one  member  of  the  Community  who  showed  any 
eagerness  about  getting  letters  regularly  and  often, 
and  that  member  was  Madame.  She  indeed  did  receive 
a  most  unconscionable  number  of  letters  and  periodi- 
cals, so  the  other  members  thought.  She  got  several 
American  Magazines,  such  as  the  Atlantic  Monthly 
and  Harper's,  but  she  also  received  English  papers, 
and  French  ones,  and  occasionally  German  ones  as 
well.  The  Community  thought,  but  did  not  dare  to 
give  public  expression  to  the  thought,  that  Madame 
should  have  rested  content  with  the  mental  suste- 
nance provided  by  themselves  for  home  consumption. 

54 


NON-RESISTANCE.  55 

Brother  Wright  in  particular  felt  himself  equal  to  the 
task  of  providing  everybody  with  all  they  needed  in 
the  way  of  correct  views  upon  even  the  highest  sub- 
jects.   But  Madame,  although  she  listened  with  polite- 
ness and  apparent  attention  to  what  he  had  to  say, 
found  this  sustenance  too  meagre  for  the  wants  of  her 
nature.    Moreover  she  took  a  deep  interest  in  the  af- 
fairs of  the  outside  world,  an  interest  almost  offensive 
to  persons  who  prided  themselves  upon  having  risen 
above  the  world  and  all  its  concerns.     It  was  really 
humiliating  to  think  that  the  leading  spirit  of  their 
Community  should  occupy  her  mind  with  the  relations 
between  Prussia  and  Austria,  when  such  questions  as 
affected  the  future  of  humanity  and  of  Perfection  City 
were  what  filled  their  souls.    She  even  evinced  a  keen 
interest  in  the  career  and  personality  of  the  Prussian 
minister,    Bismarck,    and    that,    too,    when    Brother 
Wright    was   willing   to    give   her   the    light    of    liis 
thoughts  upon  all  really  important  questions.    It  was 
painful  to  the  feeling  of  the  Pioneers,  who  were  all 
in  all  to  themselves  and  wished  to  be  so  to  others,  but 
they  had  to  put  up  with  it,  since  Madame  was  their 
leader  and,  moreover,  the  only  one  who  had  a  purse 
with  some  money  in  it.    Ezra  was  the  only  member  of 
the  Community  who  sided  with  Madame  in  her  taste 
for  reading  the  new  books  and  the  latest  periodicals. 
He  and  she  had  that  taste,  with  many  others,  in  com- 
mon, and  it  drew  them  together  in  an  especial  degree. 
On  his  last  trip  East  during  the  winter,  when  he 


56  PERFECTION  CITY. 

had  been  so  unexpectedly  delayed,  as  they  now  knew, 
by  meeting  with  his  fate  in  the  shape  of  Olive,  one  of 
his  commissions  had  been  to  bring  back  a  box  of  books, 
which  were  now  arranged  in  neat  shelves  in  Madame's 
private  sitting-room.  And  yet  notwithstanding  all 
these  books,  a  hundred  or  more,  the  steady  stream  of 
papers,  periodicals,  and  magazines  continued  as  be- 
fore, and  had  to  be  fetched  regularly  from  Union 
Mills. 

The  brethren  took  it  in  turns  to  go  to  the  town, 
which  was  some  ten  miles  distant,  and  they  always  com- 
bined some  useful  business  with  the  fetching  of  the 
letters.  Brother  Wright  was  a  frequent  messenger, 
for  he  liked  going  better  than  Ezra  did,  while  of  course 
Brother  Dummy  was  precluded  by  his  affliction  from 
going,  and  Brother  Carpenter  was  hopelessly  unable 
to  drive  horses.  Some  of  the  women  generally  con- 
trived to  find  an  excuse  for  going  to  Union  Mills,  for 
women  like  to  get  away  from  the  petty  cares  of  house 
and  home,  a  peculiarity  from  which  the  sisters  of 
Perfection  City  were  by  no  means  exempt.  In  par- 
ticular Mrs.  Euby,  invariably  called  Aunt  Euby,  loved 
to  go.  She  thus  got  a  chance  of  seeing  new  faces  and 
talking  with  new  people.  She  would  not  for  worlds 
have  confessed  that  she  was  tired  of  the  restricted 
society  of  Perfection  City,  but  she  knew  so  well  what 
each  had  to  say,  that  it  was  refreshing  to  go  out  some- 
times into  the  world  and  meet  people  whose  ideas 
could  not  always  be  guessed  beforehand. 


NON-RESISTANCE.  57 

It  so  happened  that  the  day  after  the  corn  planting 
it  became  necessary  to  go  to  Union  Mills  in  order  to 
take  a  grist  of  corn  to  be  ground.  Madame  suggested 
that  Brother  Wright  should  go,  while  Brother  Dum- 
my took  up  his  plough-handles  and  finished  the  field 
the  former  was  preparing  for  the  corn.  Mary  Winkle,  ' 
still  prostrated  by  the  previous  day's  hard  work,  urged 
her  spouse  to  go,  "  For  then,"  said  she,  ''  if  you  ain't 
here  I  needn't  get  any  dinner.  I'll  just  send  Willette 
over  to  Sister  Olive's  for  dinner,  and  I  needn't  stir 
till  milking  time."  This  seemed  a  happy  arrange- 
ment, and  her  husband  set  off  shortly  after  break- 
fast, picking  up  Aunt  Euby  as  he  passed  her  cot- 
tage. 

"  B-e  you  lonesome  living  in  that  house  by  your- 
self? "  asked  Brother  Wright  as  they  jogged  along 
over  the  prairie,  for  it  had  struck  him  as  very  lonely 
that  morning  as  he  drove  up. 

"  No,  no,  I  ain't  lonely,  least  not  most  whiles," 
answered  Aunt  Ruby,  an  alert  little  old  woman,  not 
unlike  a  bird  in  her  quick  movements.  "  In  the 
summer-time  there's  alius  the  chickens  to  see  to  an' 
feed  an'  ten',  an'  chickens  is  powerful  spry  an'  talkin' 
birds.  They  most  alius  has  somethin'  to  scold  an' 
chatter  'bout,  chickens  an'  hens  has,  an'  cocks.  Then 
in  the  winter  I  hev  the  clock  tickin'  loud  o'  evenin's, 
an'  that's  most  as  good  as  a  pusson  in  the  room,  an' 
there's  alius  the  cat,  an'  mostly  the  kettle  singin'  on 
the  stove.    Come  to  think  on't,  there's  a  heap  o'  com- 


58  PERFECTIOX  CITY. 

pany  in  a  house  like  mine,  if  you  on'y  has  ears  to  hear 
an'  un'erstan'  what  is  said  by  beasts  an'  things." 

Yet  notwithstanding  this  "  heap  o'  company  "  Aunt 
Ruby  dearly  loved  a  good  gossip  with  the  saddler's 
wife  at  Union  Mills,  whenever  that  luxury  was  attain- 
able. On  the  present  occasion  Aunt  Ruby  had  a  real 
good  time,  for  Brother  Wright  was  delayed  longer 
than  usual,  first  in  order  to  get  some  harness  mended, 
and  afterwards  to  have  a  shoe  replaced  that  suddenly 
showed  signs  of  coming  off  one  of  the  horses.  Thus 
it  was  very  near  sun-down  before  they  left  Union 
Mills.  Aunt  Ruby^  owing  in  large  measure  to  her 
gossip,  and  also  partly  to  an  exceptionally  strong  cup 
of  tea,  was  in  a  highly  nervous  and  excitable  frame 
of  mind. 

Had  Brother  Wright,  she  asked,  heard  of  that 
rumour  about  the  Cherokees?  And  did  he  think  there 
was  anv  danorer  of  their  leavinoj  their  Reservation  and 
going  on  the  war-path?  Brother  Wright,  who  had  a 
poor  opinion  of  Indians,  and  a  worse  one  of  the  way 
in  which  the  white  men  had  treated  them,  thought  on 
the  whole  that  the  rumour  might  be  considered  false. 
This  comforted  Aunt  Ruby,  to  whom  the  word  "  In- 
jun "  suggested  torture  and  death  and  all  sorts  of 
horrors.  She  remained  comforted  until  she  remem- 
bered that  other  rumour — about  the  raid  of  border 
ruffians  from  out  of  Missouri.  Brother  Wright  thought 
it  highly  probable  that  this  rumour  might  prove  to  be 
true.  Missouri  men  had  raided  Kansas  more  than  once. 


NON-RESISTANCE.  59 

and  it  was  possible  they  might  do  so  again  at  any  mo- 
ment. With  coversation  such  as  this  they  came  to 
the  end  of  the  daylight  and  the  beginning  of  the  trees 
around  Cotton  Wood  Creek  about  the  same  time. 

"  I  shall  be  glad  when  we  are  safe  over  this  ford 
and  out  of  the  dark  wood  beyond,"  said  Brother 
Wright,  trying  to  urge  his  horses  along,  but  he  had 
a  heavy  load  of  timber  and  coal  and  some  iron  bars 
for  smith-work. 

"  Ain't  it  near  here  that  those  people  over  beyond 
Jacksonville  got  robbed?"  asked  Aunt  Ruby,  nerv- 
ously peering  about  in  the  gloom  with  her  weak  old 
eyes.  At  this  moment  some  distant  creature  made  a 
shrill  scream  or  howl. 

"  Oh!  what  was  that,"  exclaimed  Aunt  Ruby  nerv- 
ously. 

"  That  was  a  prairie  wolf,  I  guess,"  answered 
Brother  Wright  quietly. 

Silence  followed,  except  for  the  creaking  of  the 
waggon,  the  straining  of  the  horses  at  their  traces, 
and  an  occasional  clang  made  by  one  of  the  bars  of 
iron  which  was  not  sufficiently  wedged  up  with  hay. 

"  If  those  Missouri  border  ruffians  came  to  Perfec- 
tion City,  do  you  reckon  our  principles  would  save 
us  from  being  robbed?"  asked  Aunt  Ruby.  "Most 
everybody  knows  as  we  are  non-resistants." 

"  I  don't  think  our  principles  would  stand  in  the 
way  of  a  Missouri  man.  More  likely  they  would  take 
advantage  of  them.     They  are  mean  cusses,  and  are 


60  PERFECTION  CITY. 

used  to  riding  rough-shod  over  principles  and  rights. 
It  is  a  recognised  thing  everywhere  that  women  and 
children  are  non-resistants,  yet  that  does  not  save  'em 
from  being  raided  and  robbed  by  border  ruffians." 

"  And  you  think  they  w^ould  rob  us,  peaceful  folks 
as  ha'n't  no  arms  nor  nothin'  ? "  asked  Aunt  Kuby 
anxiously. 

"  I  guess  they  would  try,"  replied  Brother  Wright. 

"  Then  I  think  as  we  oughter  reconsider  our  prin- 
ciples a  mite,"  said  Aunt  Euby.  "  For  if  we  are  robbed 
and  killed  by  folks  as  can't  un'erstan'  the  higher  life, 
we  shan't  be  able  to  teach  the  world  nothin'.  An' 
what's  the  good  o'  principles  when  you're  dead  an' 
gone  an'  undergroun'  ?  " 

"  That  is  so,"  assented  Brother  Wright. 

"  I  didn't  never  think  on't  in  this  light  afore,"  said 
Aunt  Ruby.  "  It  'pears  to  me  as  how  we  should 
meet  together  an'  try  an'  settle  some  way  as  how 
we  can  keep  our  principles  an'  yet  live  on  the 
prairie." 

"  I  guess  you've  pretty  nearly  said  the  truth,"  said 
Brother  Wright. 

"  What  we  hev  to  do  is  to  live  here  an'  show  'em 
our  pj-inciples  at  work,  an'  not  die  straightway  afore 
we've  done  anything  to  improve  mankind.  That's 
my  view,"  said  Aunt  Ruby.  "  What  do  you  think, 
Brother  Wright?" 

Instead  of  answering  Brother  Wright  pulled  up 
short  and  looked  intently  in  front  of  him. 


NON-RESISTANCE.  (Jl 

"What's  the  matter?"  exclaimed  Aunt  Ruby  in 
a  high-pitched  voice  of  alarm. 

"Hush!"  replied  her  companion,  "don't  make  a 
noise." 

Aunt  Ruby's  heart  began  to  beat  violently.  "  Do 
you  see  anything?  "  she  asked  in  a  whisper. 

"I  see  a  man  over  there  by  the  road,  sitting  on 
horseback  with  his  right  arm  out  pointing  towards  the 
waeriron." 


ii 


Oh!  brother,  I  wish  you  had  a  carnal  weapon 
of  defence,"  said  Aunt  Ruby  in  a  shaking  voice. 

"  I  have,"  replied  Brother  Wright,  pulling  an  un- 
commonly useful-looking  Colt's  revolver  from  his 
breeches  pocket.  "  I  always  carry  one  in  case  of 
Injuns." 

Again  they  sat  silent  for  a  moment,  the  horses 
shook  their  heads,  and  one  of  them  stamped  a  foot. 

"Who  goes  there?"  hailed  Brother  Wright  in  a 
loud  defiant  voice.  "  Drop  that  right  arm  of  yours 
or  I'll  fire." 

No  answer. 

The  figure  sat  motionless,  the  right  hand  still 
raised  in  that  menacing  attitude. 

"  I  am  a  man  of  my  word,"  said  Brother  Wright, 
rising  to  his  feet  and  sighting  his  revolver  steadily 
on  the  figure,  while  to  Aunt  Ruby  he  said,  "  Hold  on 
tight,  the  horses  will  jump." 

A  shot  rang  out  on  the  still  night  air.  Tlie  horses 
nearly  jumped  out  of  their  skins  with  fright,  and 


(52  PERFECTION  CITY. 

would  certainly  have  run  away,  only  the  waggon  was 
very  heavy,  and  they  decided  to  run  in  dilTerent  di- 
rections. Hence  they  only  jerked  each  other  almost 
to  the  ground  and  then  stood  still  amazed  and  trem- 
bling. 

"  Better  make  sure,"  said  Brother  Wright,  empty- 
ing another  barrel  at  the  figure  which  appeared  to  re- 
main motionless  in  the  uncertain  foggy  light.  This 
time  the  horses  came  to  the  same  conclusion  and  tried 
to  turn  round  abruptly,  but  the  attempt  was  expertly 
frustrated  by  Brother  Wright  and  a  cowhide  whip  of 
exceptional  stinging  power.  Having  thus  reduced  the 
horses  to  reason,  he  again  turned  his  attention  to  the 
figure  and  saw  with  amazement  that  it  still  sat  on 
horseback  in  the  same  spot. 

"Well,  I  swan!"  said  Brother  Wright,  rubbing 
his  eyes.  "  That  beats  all!  It  can't  be  a  mortal 
man,  or  he  would  have  either  dropped  or  returned 
fire.  I  guess  I'll  drive  on  and  do  no  more  shooting 
this  time." 

He  stowed  his  pistol  away  in  his  pocket  and 
drove  on. 

"Hadn't  you  better  keep  the  weapon  handy?" 
suggested  Aunt  Ruby.  "  You  might  lay  it  down  in 
my  lap,  if  you  like." 

"  No,  thank'ee,"  replied  Brother  Wright.  "  I  don't 
generally  give  that  sort  of  thing  to  women  to  hold 
for  me." 

He  pulled  up  at  a  little  opening  just  near  the 


NON-RESISTANCE.  ^3 

ford,  where  the  faint  hght  of  a  crescent  moon  showed 
between  the  bare  branches  of  the  trees,  and  a  sort 
of  water-fog  hung  along  the  elder  bushes  by  the  banks. 

"  This  is  the  spot  he  was  standing,"  remarked 
Wright,  "the  exact  spot.  I  guess  I'll  just  look  and 
see  if  there  is  any  trail.  The  ground  is  soft  about 
here  and  should  show  up  pretty  clear." 

He  descended  from  the  waggon  and  carefully  ex- 
amined the  side  of  the  road,  but  could  see  nothing. 
There  was  a  large  stump  with  a  broken  branch  stick- 
ing out  which  attracted  his  attention,  and  he  walked 
around  it  a  couple  of  times,  surveying  it  critically  in 
the  uncertain  light. 

"  Well,  I  swan!  "  he  exclaimed,  after  the  third 
inspection.  "  I  didn't  think  I  could  have  been  mis- 
taken." 

Then  he  climbed  back  into  the  waggon,  and  said, 
"  Gee-up!  " 

"Did  you  fin'  any  tracks  o'  robbers?"  asked  his 
companion  anxiously. 

"  No,"  replied  Brother  Wright,  "  no  tracks  of  rob- 
bers, but  I  lighted  on  the  trail  of  a  doggauned  fool. 
Guess  we'll  not  say  much  about  the  attack  made  on 
our  waggon,  at  Little  Cotton  Wood  Creek." 

"  I  won't  mention  it  at  all,"  remarked  Aunt  Ruby, 
"'  'cause  it  might  frighten  the  folks  up  to  Perfection 
City  an'  make  'em  uneasy  'bout  coming  to  Union 
Mills." 

Brother  Wright  only  chuckled  in  reply,  possibly 


64  PERFECTION  CITY. 

because  his  whole  attention  was  required  at  this  junc- 
ture to  get  his  horses  and  waggon  safely  through  the 
water,  for  it  was  certainly  very  dark  in  that  bottom- 
land. Once  the  creek  was  crossed  and  the  high  prairie 
reached,  it  became  easy  enough  to  see  by  the  light 
of  the  new  moon  and  the  stars,  and  the  pair  reached 
Perfection  City  in  safety,  although  very  late. 

Brother  Wright  was  very  eager  to  unravel  the 
mystery  of  that  horseman  at  the  ford  on  Little  Cotton 
Wood  Creek,  so  he  made  a  private  expedition  thither 
on  horseback  as  soon  as  he  could  frame  an  excuse  for 
a  morning's  absence.  He  went  to  the  place  whence 
he  had  first  seen  the  alarming  stranger,  half  closed 
his  sharp  grey  eyes,  and  looked. 

"Well,  I  swan!''  he  remarked,  as  this  expression 
seemed  somehow  to  relieve  his  feelings.  By  daylight 
there  was  nothing  suspicious  to  be  seen,  but  the  old 
stump  with  the  broken  branch  sticking  out  from  it 
straight  towards  the  spectator.  Brother  Wright  sur- 
veyed this  stump  critically  and  came  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  with  the  help  of  darkness,  a  slight  mist,  a 
new  moon,  and  a  nervous  companion,  the  old  stump 
might  take  on  an  alarming  aspect.  He  rode  up  to  the 
stump,  got  off  his  horse,  and  examined  it. 

"  I  should  like  to  know  that  I  hit  him  plumb  with 
both  bullets  anyhow,"  remarked  he,  with  a  grin  most 
unbecoming  to  a  Perfection  City  non-resistant.  He 
had  hit  "  him  "  plumb,  but  so  had  other  people,  and 
the  amazed  Brother  Wright  counted  no  less  than  seven- 


NON-RESISTANCE.  65 

teen  bullet  holes,  both  old  and  new,  in  the  body  of 
that  long  suffering  stimip. 

"  Well,  I  be  jiggered!  "  said  Brother  Wright  as  he 
mounted  his  horse.  "  What  a  sight  of  blamed  fools 
there  must  be  in  the  world!  "  and  with  this  comfort- 
ing reflection  he  rode  home,  and  ever  after  held  his 
peace  about  the  episode  on  the  ford  of  Little  Cotton 
Wood  Creek.  And  so  likewise  did  Aunt  Ruby,  that 
talkative  old  lady.  But  sometimes,  when  she  and 
Brother  Wright  looked  into  each  other's  eyes,  they 
grinned  a  little  sheepishly,  showing  that  the  recollec- 
tion of  it  had  not  quite  faded  from  their  minds. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

WILLETTE. 

WiLLETTE,  the  only  child  of  the  Wright  and  Win- 
kle pair,  was  a  young  person  of  considerable  charac- 
ter, which  had  undergone  little  of  the  attempted  modi- 
fication which  we  call  education.  At  the  time  of 
Olive's  arrival  at  Perfection  City  this  child  was  about 
eleven  years  old,  and  was  as  wild  a  specimen  of  a 
girl  as  could  be  easily  found  even  on  the  prairie.  Her 
mother  had  endeavoured  to  clothe  her  in  garments 
known  as  the  "  reform-dress,"  and  had  made  her  a 
suit  of  lilac  calico,  consisting  of  short  tunic,  and  full- 
gathered  trousers  of  the  prescribed  pattern.  Willette 
had  put  on  these  things  and  had  promptly  complained 
of  "  scratchiness "  around  the  neck  and  arm-holes, 
owing  probably  to  deficiency  of  skill  on  the  part  of 
her  mother  in  the  making  of  the  said  garments.  Short- 
ly afterwards,  being  called  upon  to  do  some  cattle- 
hunting,  Willette  had  set  out  in  all  the  pride  of  her 
new  clothes  to  ride  down  some  young  steers  who  were 
proving  refractory.  The  steers  took  shelter  in  the 
bottom-land  along  Little  Cotton  Wood  Creek,  and  skil- 

66 


WILLETTE.  67 

fully  hid  themselves  in  the  brushwood  there,  among 
the  trailing  wild  vines  and  the  spiky  wilder  plums 
which  formed  a  very  good  barrier  against  pursuing 
man.  Willette  plunged  bravely  into  the  brush,  and 
after  a  fierce  struggle  returned  with  one  steer  and 
half  her  dress.  The  other  half  remained  in  the  brush 
along  with  the  rest  of  the  steers.  Repeated  onslaughts 
reduced  her  almost  to  nakedness,  but  she  brought  home 
the  full  complement  of  steers  and  an  abundant  assort- 
ment of  scratches  on  her  legs.  After  that  Willette 
had  enough  of  her  mother's  system  of  dress,  and  ac- 
cordingly she  evolved  one  of  her  own. 

"  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  cattle-hunt  in  no  more  o'  your 
cobwebs.  Ma,"  explained  this  young  person.  "  I 
reckon  I'll  go  a-ridin'  like  a  boy  next  time." 

Willette  appropriated  one  of  her  father's  pants 
made  of  the  material  known  as  hickory,  which  is  sup- 
posed to  resist  any  tear  or  strain.  The  current  legend 
attached  to  real  out-and-out  hickory  is  as  follows.  A 
farmer  arrayed  in  hickory  was  one  day  rooting  out 
old  stumps  from  a  newly-cleared  field  with  a  new 
patent  plough.  He  came  to  a  regular  stunner  which 
jerked  the  plough  clean  out  of  the  land.  He  backed 
up,  took  a  good  hold  of  the  plough-handles,  gave  a 
mighty  yell  to  the  horses,  and  drove  the  plough  clean 
through  the  stump,  which  split  open  in  the  middle. 
The  plough  and  the  man  passed  through,  but  the 
stump  closed  up  again  and  caught  his  hickory  trous- 
sers.     The  horses  strained  at  the  collar,  but  the  man 


68  PERFECTION  CITY. 

would  not  let  go  of  the  plough,  nor  would  the  stump 
relinquish  its  grasp  of  the  hickory  trousers.  So  he 
rested  his  horses  a  spell,  took  a  big  breath,  and  said 
"  Hallelujah!  "  whereupon  the  horses  went  forward 
with  a  bound  and  brought  plough,  man,  trousers,  and 
stump  along  with  them! 

It  was  a  garment  of  this  incomparable  material  that 
Willette  appropriated  to  her  use.  She  cut  off  the  legs 
until  the  length  suited  her  stature,  regardless  of  the 
fit  of  the  waist,  clothed  the  upper  part  of  her  body 
in  a  pink  check  shirt,  put  a  boy's  cap  upon  her  head, 
and  announced  her  intention  of  henceforth  dressing 
like  that.  She  was  a  chip  of  the  old  block  with  a  venge- 
ance, and  Mary  Winkle,  after  one  affrighted  gasp, 
was  obliged  to  admit  that  her  own  principles,  as  put 
into  practice  by  her  daughter,  were  too  much  for  her. 
Wright  laughed  immensely,  and  said  she  was  a  boy 
now  and  would  do  firstrate. 

Willette  was  totally  uneducated,  could  not  write 
her  name  and  could  scarcely  read,  but  she  did  not 
lack  for  intelligence.  She  knew  the  hour  of  the  day, 
by  looking  at  the  sun,  as  well  as  a  negro,  and 
she  could  distinguish  a  horse  from  a  cow  at  four 
miles  distance.  She  knew  every  beast  for  miles 
around,  and  to  whom  it  belonged,  and  could  re- 
member for  a  month  every  cow  she  had  come  across 
on  the  prairie  and  which  way  it  was  heading.  She 
understood  the  moods  and  intentions  of  all  kinds 
of  animals  almost  as  if  she  was  one  of  the  species 


WILLETTE.  69 

herself,   and   she   never   was   at   fault   on   a   cattle- 
trail. 

Olive  found  immense  amusement  in  talking  to 
Willette,  who  expressed  herself  with  the  utmost  free- 
dom upon  all  subjects  in  language  which  would  have 
done  credit  to  a  nigger.    The  child,  on  the  other  hand, 
had  a  supreme  contempt  for  Olive's  abilities  and  at- 
tainments,  which   seemed   ludicrously   deficient,   but 
felt  a  kindly  patronising  sort  of  regard  for  her,  and 
liked  to  look  at  her  pretty  face  and  touch  her  smooth 
round  cheeks.    The  pair  were  therefore  often  together, 
and  Willette  undertook  to  teach  her  friend  to  ride, 
provided  she  would  get  some  sensible  clothes  and  ride 
in  the  only  way  that  Willette  imagined  it  possible 
for  a  two-legged  human  being  to  bestride  a  quadru- 
ped.   Olive  therefore  made  herself  a  bewitching  riding- 
habit  with  Turkish  trousers,  and  rode  a  high-peaked 
Mexican  saddle,  out  of  which  even  a  sack  of  meal 
could  not  tumble  if  it  tried.    As  soon  as  Olive  began 
to  feel  confidence  in  herself  and  her  horse,  she  enjoyed 
the  riding  immensely.     She  claimed  the  refusal  of  a 
horse  on  every  possible  opportunity  when  one  could 
be  spared  from  the  farm-work.    Ezra,  delighted  to  see 
her  so  pleased  with  a  healthy  exercise,  encouraged 
her  to  go  cattle-hunting  with  Willette,  and  enjoyed 
the  spirited  reports  which  she  used  to  bring  home  from 
these  exhilarating  expeditions. 

"  I  do  wish  I  had  a  pony  of  my  very  own  which 
I  could  take  out  whenever  I  wanted  a  ride,  and  which 


70  PERFECTION  CITY. 

would  be  always  there  for  me/'  said  Olive  one  day 
to  Ezra  after  she  had  been  riding  by  herself  on  Rebel. 
Ezra  was  hoeing  up  the  newly  sprouted  sweet-corn,  and 
the  horses  were  not  at  work  on  the  land.  In  his  in- 
most heart  he  re-echoed  the  wish,  and  would  at  that 
moment  have  given  anything  to  be  an  individualist 
and  be  able  to  say:  "  Darling,  I'll  buy  you  a  pony  with 
the  first  load  of  corn  I  sell."  He  looked  at  his  pretty 
wife's  glowing  cheeks  and  sparkling  eyes,  and  thought 
with  a  groan  that  he  was  tied  by  his  principles  and 
prevented  by  them  and  the  public  opinion  of  the  Com- 
munity from  giving  his  wife  this  enjoyment.  It  was 
the  first  time  that  his  heart  had  come  into  conflict 
with  the  perfect  theories  of  Perfection  City,  and  he 
w^as  amazed  and  disturbed  to  find  how  very  much  he 
was  vexed  by  them.  Fortunately  Olive  dismissed  the 
idea  of  a  pony  of  her  own  as  an  unattainable  bliss, 
and  contented  herself  with  chance  rides  on  Eebel 
and  Queen  Katherine,  the  two  horses  which  inhabited 
Ezra's  stable  and  were  generally  used  by  him  on  his 
side  of  the  community-land. 

Olive's  courage  and  spirit  of  independence,  fostered 
by  a  very  mild-tempered  horse,  grew  apace.  She  soon 
felt  able  to  dispense  with  the  escort  and  instruction 
of  Willette  and  go  cattle-hunting  alone.  She  learned 
quickly  enough  to  know  the  sixty  head  of  cattle  be- 
longing to  the  Community,  and  where  to  look  for 
them.  The  cattle,  which  consisted  of  the  usual  mix- 
ture of  milch  cows,  steers,  yearlings,  and  calves,  had 


WILLETTE.  71 

been  bought  at  different  times  and  were  apportioned 
to  the  different  families  in  rough  (Ji vision,  cliiefly  be- 
cause each  woman  liked  to  have  the  cows  she  was  to 
milk,  driven  up  to  her  own  fence  near  to  her  own 
house  to  save  trouble.  The  cattle,  consequently, 
seemed  to  have  become  intensely  individualistic  in 
their  tendencies,  and  absolutely  refused  to  graze  in 
common.  Each  bell-cow  led  off  her  own  herd  of  steers 
and  yearlings  where  she  thought  best  on  the  prairie, 
and  it  was  seldom  that  any  two  of  those  "  leading 
ladies  "  chose  to  go  to  the  same  spot.  If  they  did 
they  generally  quarrelled  and  fought  a  bit.  Cattle- 
hunting,  therefore,  became  a  sufficiently  diversified  oc- 
cupation in  which  the  unexpected  frequently  occurred. 
One  day  it  happened  that  Olive  and  Diana,  now 
old  enough  to  run  with  her  on  her  expeditions,  had 
been  to  the  head  of  Little  Cotton  Wood  Creek  to  look 
for  a  cow  that  had  hidden  away  her  calf  there,  after 
the  manner  of  prairie  cows.  Olive  found  the  truant 
and  the  "  little  stranger,"  along  with  half  a  dozen 
young  cattle,  and  was  driving  them  slowly  homewards, 
when  she  became  convinced  from  Eebel's  demonstra- 
tions that  something  was  annoying  him  under  the  flap 
of  his  saddle.  In  fact  he  was  constantly  trying  to  bite 
Olive's  leg  in  a  way  which  agitated  her  not  a  little.  Ac- 
cordingly she  resolved  to  take  off  the  saddle  and  make 
an  inspection.  She  dismounted,  undid  the  girths,  and 
lifted  off  the  heavy  Mexican  saddle.  Eebel,  who  had 
always  hitherto  regarded  this  proceeding  as  indicat- 


72  PERFECTION  CITY. 

ing  immediate  liberty,  no  sooner  felt  the  saddle  re- 
moved than  he  topk  a  base  advantage  of  Olive,  and 
kicking  up  his  heels  bounded  away  from  her.  She 
set  the  saddle  in  the  grass  and  walked  pacifically  after 
Rebel,  held  out  a  deceitful  hand  and  called  him  endear- 
ing names.  Rebel  listened  to  her  honeyed  words  with 
his  ears  flat  on  his  neck,  and  as  soon  as  she  came  near, 
again  kicked  up  his  heels  and  bounded  off. 

Diana  considering  all  this  a  joke  in  which  a  puppy 
might  lend  valuable  assistance,  now  pranced  forward 
with  energetic  barks,  and  the  cows  and  calves  deem- 
ing themselves  to  be  driven  wdth  fierceness,  set  up  a 
lumbering  trot  across  the  prairie,  the  new-made  mother 
every  now  and  then  diving  ineffectually  after  Diana 
with  a  plunge  and  a  snort.  A  stampede  had  set  in 
among  the  animals,  and  Olive  sat  down  and  cried 
with  vexation  and  alarm.  Her  home  showed  clear 
and  distinct  against  the  horizon  just  four  miles  in  a 
bee-line  from  where  she  sat  shedding  her  ineffectual 
tears.  Now  Diana,  although  a  feminine  creature  and 
also  a  puppy,  and  therefore  endowed  with  a  double 
dose  of  original  foolishness,  was  likewise  a  dog,  and 
consequently  amenable  to  the  highest  inspirations  of 
a  noble  nature.  Having  therefore  in  her  character  of 
puppy  worried  and  distracted  the  animals  to  her 
heart's  content,  she  suddenly  felt  bound  to  exhibit 
some  of  the  better  sides  of  her  nature,  among  which 
remains  forever  pre-eminent  fidelity  to  the  master. 
Seeing  that  Olive  was  not  in  the  scrimmage,  Diana 


WILLETTE.  ^^ 

turned  her  back  resolutely  upon  the  delights  of  snap- 
ping at  calves'  heels,  and  putting  her  nose  to  the 
ground  raced  straight  back  to  Olive  weeping  in  the 
grass.  After  an  apologetic  wriggle  Diana  sat  down 
and  looked  at  Olive.  Now  no  philosopher  or  other 
mortal  has  ever  succeeded  in  being  as  wise  as  a  tired 
puppy  can  look.  Therefore  when  Olive  in  spite  of 
her  woe  caught  sight  of  Diana's  face  and  attitude,  she 
burst  into  a  laugh  in  the  midst  of  her  tears,  whereupon 
the  latter  sprang  merrily  up  and  licked  her  face.  Thus 
comforted,  Olive  arose,  and  then  became  aware  that 
she  didn't  know  where  the  saddle  was.  She  had  neg- 
lected to  mark  its  position  in  any  way  when  going 
on  that  deceitful  embassy  to  Kebel,  but  indeed  it  would 
not  have  been  easy  to  mark  the  position  of  the  saddle. 
The  grass  was  in  its  greatest  summer  height,  and  there 
was  neither  bush  nor  tree  anywhere  for  miles  around. 
There  was  not  even  a  hillock  or  knoll  of  ground  to 
give  individuality  to  one  spot  more  than  another,  all 
was  the  relentless  rolling  prairie — a  vast  grassy  sea 
where  one  billow  was  exactly  like  a  hundred  others. 

Olive  was  in  dismay.  Here  was  a  fresh  cause  for 
tribulation,  for  the  saddle  was  new  and  expensive, 
and  moreover  it  belonged  to  the  Community.  She 
would  not  have  minded  facing  Ezra  with  a  tale  of  any 
sort  of  disaster  or  loss,  for  she  knew  he  would  kiss 
her  and  pet  her  and  say,  "  Never  mind,  darling,  don't 
grieve,  it  doesn't  matter  two  jack-straws."  But  a  com- 
munity-saddle was  quite  another  matter,  and  Olive 


Y4  PERFECTION  CITY. 

shrank  from  the  ordeal  of  community-anger  at  the 
loss  of  its  saddle,  and  community-contempt  for  her 
carelessness  in  unsaddling  on  the  prairie  without  put- 
ting the  reins  over  her  arm.  She  perceived  now  that 
anyone  but  a  fool  would  have  taken  that  simple  pre- 
caution against  disaster.  "  I'm  not  fit  to  live  on  the 
prairie,"  sobbed  Olive  to  herself.  "  My  education  is 
no  use  to  me,  and  I  have  not  got  the  wits  of  that  boy- 
girl  Willette.  Diana,  you  idiot,  why  don't  you  help 
me?" 

This  reproach  was  addressed  to  the  puppy,  who 
was  wallowing  blissfully  in  the  grass  and  thus  refresh- 
ing herself  after  her  scamper.  Olive  began  to  walk 
aimlessly  up  and  down  in  the  hope  of  stumbling  on 
the  saddle,  and  Diana  began  to  do  likewise,  but  with 
far  more  system.  Diana's  researches  were  speedily 
crowned  with  success,  and  she  soon  sat  down  to  an  un- 
interrupted gnaw  at  the  flap  of  the  big  Mexican  saddle. 
Becoming  at  length  aware  of  the  disappearance  of 
Diana,  Olive  called  to  her,  and  the  puppy  reared  a 
mischievous  face  over  the  grass  some  twenty  yards 
away.  Going  to  the  spot,  Olive  perceived  the  saddle 
and  also  the  depredations  of  Diana's  sharp  teeth  upon 
the  flap.  She  whipped  the  dog  with  a  stirrup  leather 
most  ineffectually  and  then  said: 

"  What's  to  be  done  now  ?  "  but  Diana,  feeling  that 
her  efforts  had  been  badly  rewarded,  made  no  sug- 
gestions. 

Indeed  Olive's  plight  after  finding  the  saddle  was 


WILLETTE.  75 

considerably  worse  than  before.  The  thing  was  very 
heavy.  Mexican  saddles  are  built  on  wood,  large, 
strong  and  ponderous,  and  weigh  heavier  and  heavier 
in  proportion  to  the  distance  one  carries  them.  Olive 
put  it  on  her  shoulders  and  began  to  see  stars,  she 
then  tried  her  head  and  found  that  position  still  worse. 
She  dragged  it  along  by  a  stirrup-leather  and  found 
she  was  ruining  it.  Then  she  sat  down  and  cried, 
w^hich  was  the  most  useless  effort  she  had  made.  AVhat 
was  she  to  do?  If  she  were  to  leave  the  saddle  and 
walk  home  she  would  never  be  able  to  find  it  again. 
There  was  absolutely  nothing  to  mark  the  spot.  By 
this  time  the  cattle  were  distant  specks  moving  sol- 
emnly homewards,  with  Eebel  decorously  following  in 
the  rear.  Olive  decided  to  remain  where  she  was  until 
Rebel  and  the  cattle,  by  their  arrival  without  her, 
should  have  given  the  alarm,  which  would  bring  Ezra 
and  the  rest  of  the  Community  to  the  rescue,  some- 
where about  the  middle  of  the  night,  she  supposed. 
It  would  be  humiliating,  but  she  thought  it  would  be 
better  than  abandoning  the  saddle  which  she  could  not 
possibly  carry.  She  sat  down  to  wait  with  what  pa- 
tience she  could  for  rescue  and  humiliation.  There 
was  nothing  to  expect  along  that  weary  stretch  of 
grassy  sea,  and  yet  Olive  kept  looking  and  looking 
away  to  the  north,  east,  south,  and  west.  By  and  by 
she  beheld  a  horseman  coming  u]j  from  the  distant 
west  and  holding  a  slanting  course  which  would  carry 

him  past  Perfection  City  some  mile  or  so  to  the  north. 
6 


Y6  PERFECTION  CITY. 

She  resolved  to  intercept  this  man  and  ask  his  aid,  so 
she  stood  up  and  signalled  wildly  with  her  hat.  Of 
course  he  saw  her  instantly,  although  he  was  a  couple 
of  miles  away,  and  equally  of  course  he  at  once  turned 
his  horse  towards  her  and  set  off  at  a  gallop.  People 
on  the  prairie  ask  and  give  help  freely,  and  Olive 
had  not  the  slightest  hesitation  in  calling  this  un- 
known horseman  up  to  her  aid,  although  she  had  not 
the  remotest  idea  who  he  might  be.  Probably  he  was 
a  cattle-hunter  like  herself,  at  any  rate  a  man  and  a 
horse  would  be  able  to  give  her  and  her  saddle  effec- 
tual assistance.  The  man  galloped  steadily  on  and  soon 
took  the  ordinary  appearance:  big  hat,  red  shirt,  riding 
boots,  belt  with  probably  a  revolver  somewhere  in  it. 
He  slowed  up  a  little  as  he  came  near  and  seemed  to 
be  very  intently  looking  at  Olive. 

'^  I  am  very  sorry  to  have  troubled  you,"  began 
Olive. 

"  Don't  mention  it.  I  shall  be  delighted  if  I  can 
be  of  use,"  said  the  man,  taking  off  his  big  hat. 

They  both  stopped  short  and  looked  hard  at  each 
other,  for  their  speech  had  mutually  revealed  the  fact 
that  they  were  a  lady  and  a  gentleman,  a  most  un- 
common encounter  on  the  Kansas  prairie  beyond  the 
last  bit  of  cultivated  land. 

"Have  you  had  an  accident?  Are  you  hurt?" 
asked  the  man,  jumping  off  his  horse  and  mechanical- 
ly slinging  the  bridle-rein  over  his  left  arm,  as  Olive 
noted  with  some  self-reproach.     She  told  him  what 


WILLETTE.  77 

had  happened,  and  she  saw  a  smile  creep  round  his 
mouth  and  light  up  his  hlue  eyes. 

"  That  is  easily  remedied.  I  feared  you  must  have 
been  thrown,"  said  he.  "  Just  mount  my  horse.  He's 
quiet.     I'll  take  you  home." 

"  But  the  saddle,"  said  Olive  looking  very  anxious- 
ly at  that  burden. 

"Oh!  that's  nothing,"  said  the  stranger.  "I'll 
carry  it  on  my  arm." 

"  You  must  not  dream  of  such  a  thing.  I  could 
not  think  of  allowing  it.  You  are  very  kind,  I  am 
sure,  but  if  you  would  take  up  the  saddle  in  front 
of  you  that  is  all  I  want.  The  saddle  is  the  only  diffi- 
culty. I  can  walk  quite  well.  I  live  in  that  house 
over  there  on  the  brow  of  the  bluff.  It  is  not  far,  but 
I  could  not  carry  that  terrible  saddle." 

"  Why,  that's  Perfection  City,  where  the  Com- 
munists live,"  said  he,  looking  at  her  curiously. 

"  Yes,  I  live  there,"  replied  Olive  with  a  slight 
blush,  noting  the  look. 

^'  And  are  you  a  communist,  if  I  may  presume  to 
ask  the  question?"  queried  the  stranger. 

"  My  husband  was  one  of  the  founders  of  the — the 
— of  Perfection  Cit}^,"  said  Olive,  valiantly  determined 
to  defend  the  absent. 

"  But  you  are  not  one  of  the  original  members. 
You  are  surely  a  new-comer.  I  know  most  of  them, 
by  sight  at  all  events." 

"I  am  Mrs.  Weston,"  replied  Olive  with  dignity. 


78  PERFECTION  CITY. 

The  stranger  again  took  off  his  hat,  as  if  this  were 
an  introduction. 

"  I  have  seen  j^our  husband  then,  a  magnificent 
specimen  of  manhood,  to  judge  from  the  only  example 
I  had  of  his  physical  strength." 

Olive  felt  at  once  mollified.  Meanwhile,  the 
stranger  had  shortened  the  stirrup-leathers  of  his 
horse,  and  turning  to  Olive  he  said, 

"  And  now,  Mrs.  Weston,  allow  me  to  give  you 
a  hand  up  to  mount  you  on  my  big  horse.  He  is  quite 
gentle  and  I  will  hold  the  bridle." 

Olive  hesitated.  "  I  don't  like  to  take  your  horse," 
she  said.  "  If  you  would  be  so  kind  as  to  leave  the 
saddle " 

"  No,  no,  you  must  not  deprive  me  of  the  pleasure 
of  your  company,"  interposed  the  stranger.  "  We 
will  manage  the  saddle  all  right.  Just  spring  up. 
Your  riding-habit  is  admirably  adapted  for  prairie 
life,  and  the  prettiest  I  ever  saw.  Pardon  my  blunt- 
ness,  but  I  am  so  little  used  to  society,  I  fear  I  am 
very  rough." 

"  You  don't  fear  anything  of  the  sort,"  replied 
Olive  quickly.  "  You  are  perfectly  aware  that  your 
manners  are  infinitely  superior  to  the  article  in  gen- 
eral use  hereabouts." 

The  man  laughed  pleasantly  at  this  sally.  "  Well, 
let  me  amend  my  pleading,"  said  he,  "  and  say,  it 
is  so  long  since  I  met  a  lady  in  these  wilds,  and  that 
is  true  enough.  Heaven  knows!  " 


WILLETTE.  79 

Olive  mounted  the  big  horse  with  the  dextrous 
help  of  his  hand  and  signed  to  him  to  give  her  the 
saddle. 

"  I  couldn't  think  of  it/'  said  he,  thrusting  his  arm 
under  the  saddle  and  hoisting  it  on  to  his  shoulder. 
"  It  would  be  unspeakably  uncomfortable  for  you 
to  hold,  with  the  stirrups  whacking  you  at  every 
step." 

"  Then  you  shall  put  it  on  the  horse's  neck  in 
front  of  me,  or  I'll  hop  down  this  instant.  It's  bad 
enough  to  appropriate  your  horse  without  making  you 
carry  my  saddle  as  well." 

Seeing  her  so  determined,  he,  with  a  slight  show 
of  reluctance,  placed  the  saddle  on  the  neck  of  his 
horse,  who  after  a  shake  or  two  submitted  to  the  bur- 
den, and  so  they  eventually  turned  homewards. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  not  surprised  that  wc  settlers 
out  here  take  considerable  interest  in  your  experi- 
ment in  communism,"  remarked  the  man  as  they 
walked  along. 

"  No  doubt  anything  out  of  the  common  excites 
comment,"  said  Olive  guardedly,  "but  I  should  not 
have  thought  you  could  be  classed  as  a  settler  out 
here.    I  have  seen  a  good  many,  and  know  the  type." 

She  felt  interested  in  the  man  and  curious  to  know 
who  he  was,  he  seemed  so  utterly  different  from  all 
those  she  had  hitherto  met. 

"  I  have  lived  here,  nevertheless,  for  some  years 
now.    I  have  a  farm  on  the  north  side  of  Big  Cotton 


80  PERFECTION  CITY. 

Wood  Creek.  My  name  is  Cotterell.  Have  you  ever 
heard  it?" 

"  Xo,  I  never  heard  the  name,  but  then  I've  only 
been  here  a  very  short  time,  only  two  months.  I — 
that  is,  we  came  in  ^lay,"  said  Olive  blushing  some- 
what. 

The  stranger  smiled  a  winning  smile  and  looked 
up  at  her  face  as  he  answered, 

"  I  see  you  have  only  just  come,  and  come  as  a 
bride  to  Perfection  City.  It  has  a  very  suitable  sound 
in  that  connection." 

He  again  lifted  his  hat,  and  Olive  blushed  more 
vividly  still. 

"  The  prairie  does  not  seem  a  very  hopeful  place 
for  experiments  in  perfection,"  continued  the  stranger. 
"  To  my  eyes  it  looks  a  most  God-forsaken  place,  but 
under  certain  circumstances  I  should  be  disposed  to 
modify  that  view." 

"  I  think  any  place  will  do  to  try  and  live  a  good 
life  in,  and  that  is  what  is  aimed  at  in  our  little  Com- 
munity," said  Olive,  standing  bravely  to  her  defence. 

He  was  silent  for  a  time  and  then  spoke  again. 

"  Any  place  can  be  made  better  by  the  presence 
of  a  good  woman,  I  think." 

"  We  want  to  show  how  it  is  possible  to  banish 
some  of  the  evil  out  of  life,"  said  Olive,  marshalling 
the  expressions  she  had  heard  at  the  Academy  with 
what  skill  she  could. 

"  With  some  it  is  only  necessary  to  be  what  God 


WILLETTE.  gX 

made  them  in  order  to  banish  evil  from  their  pres- 
ence," said  he. 

"  And  we  have  a  very  noble  woman  as  leader/' 
said  Olive  not  quite  sure  of  his  meaning. 

"Ah,  indeed!  You  praise  her,  that  should  count 
for  much.  There  are  very  mixed  reports  about  her 
character  on  the  prairie.  Many  seem  to  dislike  and 
distrust  her." 

"  As  for  that  I  suppose  there  are  mixed  reports 
about  us  all,"  observed  Olive  impartially. 

"  Indeed  there  are.  For  instance,  it  is  most 
confusing  what  people  say  concerning  the  extent 
to  which  you  carry  your  communistic  theories. 
Some  assert  that  there  is  no  limit  and  that  you  are 
logical." 

"  I  don't  understand  what  you  mean,"  said  Olive, 
knitting  her  brows. 

"  I  presume  now  that  the  land  is  held  in  com- 
mon?" 

"  Yes,  certainly,  and  the  farm  implements  and  the 
horses  and  cows,"  answered  Olive. 

"  All  those  don't  really  touch  the  question.  You 
live  in  separate  houses,  I  believe." 

"  Of  course  we  do.  I  should  hate  not  having  my 
own  little  house.  It  would  be  like  a  hotel  or  a  peni- 
tentiary for  all  to  live  under  one  roof.  I  wouldn't  do 
it  for  worlds.  We  have  our  home-life  just  like  other 
people,  but  I  should  like  to  have  a  pony  of  my 
own,  only  I  suppose  my  husband  would  not  think 


82  PERFECTION  CITY. 

it  right  to  have  a  horse  that  was  not  a  community- 
horse." 

'"  What  a  confounded  shame!  I  beg  your  par- 
don. You  see  I  am  rough.  I  mean,  I  think  your 
husband  ought  to  get  you  a  pony,  a  nice  well-trained 
lady's  pony,  for  you  to  ride,  and  not  a  big  farm- 
horse." 

"  I  should  like  one,"  observed  Olive  simply,  and 
then  suddenly  remembering  that  she  was  speaking  to 
a  stranger,  she  added  hastily,  '•  I  mean  it  would  be 
nice  to  have  a  horse  always  at  hand,  one  not  liable  to 
be  wanted  for  farm  work." 

"  I  just  happen  to  know  of  an  excellent  animal 
that  would  suit  you  down  to  the  ground.  It  belongs 
to  Tom  Mills,  and  he  w^ants  to  sell  it.  It  will  go  cheap 
too.  If  you  would  speak  to  your  husband  about  it, 
I  would  bring  it  over  for  you  to  look  at.  Mills  lives 
close  to  my  house." 

"  No,  pray  don't,"  said  Olive  anxiously.  "  I  am 
ever  so  much  obliged  to  you,  but  I  really  ought  not 
to  have  spoken  about  it." 

"  Very  well,"  said  he,  seeing  she  was  distressed, 
"  we'll  not  pursue  the  subject  further."  But  in  his 
own  mind  he  reflected  that  were  he  in  Weston's  place, 
he  would  have  got  that  pony  for  his  wife,  principles 
or  no  principles,  and  it  is  highly  probable  that  he 
would  have  done  so. 

He  left  Olive  and  her  saddle  at  her  own  door, 
refusing  her  invitation  to  enter,  saying  that  he  would 


WILLETTE.  33 

avail  himself  of  her  permission  to  come  some 
other  day  to  see  her.  And  she  cordially  invited  him 
to  do  so,  for  was  not  hospitality  one  of  the  com- 
monest virtues  of  the  prairie,  and  surely  Perfec- 
tion City  must  not  be  behindhand  in  the  practice 
thereof? 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

MR.  PERSEUS. 

When  Olive  got  home,  she  was  at  first  pleased  to 
see  that  her  husband  had  not  come  in,  therefore  he 
had  not  been  made  uneasy  about  her  absence.  Napo- 
leon Pompey  had  caught  Rebel  and  turned  him  into 
the  pasture  field,  and  was  returning  after  that  job  when 
he  met  Olive  near  the  hen-house.  Napoleon  Pompey 
grinned  at  her  and  remarked  with  relish:  "  Ole  hoss, 
he  done  throw  yer,  den  run  clar  Vay  home." 

"  No,  he  didn't,"  retorted  Olive,  indignant  at  this 
slur  upon  her  equestrian  skill,  "  I  just  got  off  to 
change  the  saddle,  and  he  ran  away  from  me." 

"  Land! "  said  Napoleon  Pompey,  ^^  an'  didn't  yer 
chuck  yer  reins  roun'  yer  arm?  " 

"  No,  I  forgot  to,"  confessed  Olive. 

"  Golly  Ned! "  said  Napoleon  Pompey  with  vast 
amusement. 

Olive  felt  annoyed  and  inquired  stiffly  where  her 
husband  was. 

"  Ole  man  he  done  gone  ter  git  ole  hoe  men'd 
up,  den  he  gwine  ter  go  to  der  'Sumbly,  he  done  eat 

84 


MR.  PERSEUS.  85 

supper  'ready.  Me  an'  you'uns  got  ter  eat  our'n  now. 
Ole  man  done  toF  me." 

Napoleon  Pompey  meant  no  disrespect  in  speaking 
of  Ezra  as  "  ole  man/'  for  the  lad  knew  of  only  two 
titles  to  bestow  on  white  men,  one  was  "  Mas'r  "  the 
other  was  "  ole  man."  Ezra  had  requested  him  not  to 
use  the  expression  Mas'r,  which  grated  on  his  ears, 
and  contained  suggestions  of  servitude  at  variance  with 
the  ideas  that  prevailed  at  Perfection  City.  Napoleon 
Pompey  was  therefore  obliged  to  fall  back  upon  his 
one  other  title.  Olive  had  been  greatly  shocked  when 
she  first  heard  her  husband  called  "  ole  man,"  but  she 
was  now  used  to  the  expression. 

She  was  very  disappointed  not  to  see  Ezra  at  once, 
for  she  was  full  of  her  adventure,  but  she  knew  from 
experience  she  must  possess  her  soul  in  patience,  for 
the  "  'Sumbly,"  as  Napoleon  Pompey  called  it,  was 
sure  to  take  a  good  while,  and  Ezra  always  stayed 
conscientiously  to  the  last.  The  institution  was  none 
other  than  the  bi-weekly  Assembly,  which  met  at  the 
Academy,  and  at  which  all  the  business  of  the  Com- 
munity was  settled  and  the  routine  work  of  the  farm 
arranged  for.  All  the  members  were  free  to  attend 
and  speak  their  minds,  but  in  practice  it  had  resolved 
itself  into  a  Junta  of  Madame,  Ezra,  Wright,  Green,  and 
Uncle  David,  of  whom  the  two  latter  were  sleeping 
members.  The  women  of  Perfection  City  did  not  care 
to  attend  the  Assembly  very  often.  Women  are  not 
good  debaters,  and  they  dislike  arguments  carried  on 


86  PERFECTION  CITY. 

under  strict  rule.  They  prefer  to  go  their  own  way, 
do  what  seems  best  at  the  moment,  and  reserve  an  un- 
limited right  of  grumbling  and  jealousy.  Madame,  who 
was  an  exception  to  the  general  rule,  usually  presided 
at  the  Assembly  and  ruled  it,  as  she  did  most  things, 
without  seeming  to  do  so.  Ezra  and  Brother  Wright 
understood  the  farm  work  and  generally  mapped  out 
the  daily  labour  pretty  well.  Brother  Dummy  re- 
quired only  to  be  told  what  to  do  and  went  on  con- 
tentedly doing  it,  without  comment  or  commotion. 
Nobody,  of  course,  was  ordered  to  work,  but  it  was 
suggested  that  if  Brother  Wright  would  do  so  and 
so.  Brother  Ezra  would  be  able  to  do  this,  that,  or 
the  other,  while  Brother  Carpenter  would  be  free  to 
perform  such  another  task,  and  Brother  Dummy  would 
probably  prefer  to  work  at  whatever  happened  to  be 
wanted  at  the  moment.  Madame  seldom  interfered, 
and  then  only  when  necessary  to  smooth  over  a  rough 
edge.  She  usually  found  the  men's  arrangements 
excellent  and  for  the  general  weal.  Brother  Green, 
who  was  a  first-rate  smith,  was  the  only  member  of 
the  Community  who,  at  this  time,  received  any  money, 
for  he  worked  in  his  spare  time  for  outsiders.  With 
great  pride  he  used  to  bring  the  money  he  earned  to 
the  'Sumbly  and  give  it  into  Madame's  charge  to  be 
expended  as  seemed  best.  She  kept  the  accounts  and 
used  to  furnish  all  the  rest  of  the  necessary  cash. 
Sometimes  the  brethren  expressed  compunction  at  call- 
ing so  often  on  her  resources,  but  Madame  always 


MR.  PERSEUS.  87 

made  the  most  graceful  speeches  in  reply  to  their  ob- 
jections.    Of  course  an  undertaking  such  as  this  re- 
quired capital  to  start  it.    It  would  be  foolish  to  starve 
the  whole  project  for  want  of  a  little  expenditure 
now.    By  and  by  they  would  be  self-supporting,  but  in 
order  to  reach  that  stage  quickly  they  must  not  be 
stingy  now.     So  she  gave  her  dollars  by  the  hundred 
when  needed,  and  the  brethren  were  eternally  grate- 
ful and  privately  wondered  if  there  was  any  limit  to 
her  wealth  and  generosity.    At  the  Assembly  it  would 
be  debated  whether  the  next  load  of  timber  that  was 
bought  should  go  to  building  a  hen-house  for  Brother 
Carpenter  or  to  putting  up  a  cattle-shed  for  Brother 
Ezra,  and  it  speaks  well  for  the  honest  conviction  of 
the  Pioneers  that  it  was  usually  Brother  Ezra  who 
argued  in  favour  of  the  hen-house,  while  Brother  Car- 
penter  expressed   an   anxious   desire   for   the   cattle- 
shed.    The  difficulty  would  perhaps  be  settled  by  Ma- 
dame desiring  to  know  how  much  timber  was  required 
for  both  buildings  and  deciding  to  buy  that  amount 
at  the  earliest  opportunity. 

At  this  particular  Assembly  to  which  we  refer, 
Ezra  was  several  times  on  the  point  of  saying  that 
he  wished  to  get  a  pony  for  his  wife,  but  his 
heart  failed  him.  He  knew  he  did  want  the  pony 
very  much,  but  he  also  knew  that  it  was  not 
really  wanted  for  the  Community.  So  he  could  not 
bring  himself  to  give  utterance  to  the  individualistic 
wish,  and  after  arranging  the  necessary  business  of 


88  PERFECTION  CITY. 

the  Community,  he  came  home  with  his  wish  un- 
stated. 

Olive  was  waiting  for  him  with  the  greatest  impa- 
tience. She  went,  indeed,  as  far  as  the  hars  to  meet 
him,  but  the  road  looked  so  lonesome  and  the  sky  so 
black  with  cold  trembling  specks  of  stars,  that  she 
ran  back  again  in  a  flutter  of  panic  to  the  house  and 
shut  herself  in  with  the  candles  for  company.  At  last 
he  came  back,  and  Olive  poured  forth  the  pent-up 
torrent  of  her  news.  Ezra  was  much  amused  at  her 
description  of  the  disaster  and  interested  in  her  ac- 
count of  the  rescuer. 

"  And  I  am  so  vexed,"  said  Olive,  "  I  can't  for  the 
life  of  me  remember  what  he  said  his  name  was.  I 
know  I  never  heard  it  before,  but  he  lives  here  on  the 
prairie.    It  is  so  silly!  " 

"  Call  him  Perseus,"  said  Ezra  laughing,  "  he  was 
the  gallant  who  came  to  the  rescue  of  distressed  dam- 
sels." 

"What  a  good  joke!"  said  Olive  gleefully,  "and 
I  was  a  distressed  damsel,  I  assure  you.  I  cried  with 
vexation." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  that  Andromeda  shed  tears  when 
she  was  bound  to  the  rock,"  said  Ezra,  amused. 

"And  I  was  bound  to  that  odious  saddle  by  the 
bonds  of  duty,"  said  Olive.  "  What  a  joke!  Mr.  Per- 
seus! " 

So  they  laughed  and  chatted,  and  Olive  was  as 
bright  as  possible,  and  Ezra  thought  again  with  a  pang 


MR.  PERSEUS.  89 

of  that  pony  and  almost  wished  he  had  spoken  at  the 
Assembly  about  it.  Olive,  however,  never  mentioned 
what  Mr.  Perseus  had  said  about  the  pony  Mills  had 
for  sale.  The  idea  seemed  to  have  passed  from  her 
mind. 

It  happened  that  about  a  week  later  Olive  again 
found  herself  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Little  Cotton 
Wood  Creek,  and  by  an  extraordinary  coincidence  Mr. 
Perseus  chanced  to  meet  her.  She  was  very  much 
surprised,  and  he  seemed  to  be  no  less  so.  However, 
the  meeting  was  mutually  pleasant,  and  they  soon  fell 
into  conversation,  as  it  appeared  he  was  going  her 
way. 

"  I  have  thought  a  great  deal  about  what  you  said 
to  me  the  other  day,  about  trying  to  make  life  better 
and  all  that,^'  said  he  with  a  certain  self-consciousness, 
as  if  he  was  unaccustomed  to  speaking  upon  such 
a  subject.  Olive  looked  at  him  with  bright  clear 
eyes. 

"  I  am  very  glad  if  anything  I  said  could  be  of 
use  to  you,  but  I  am  myself  very  ignorant.  1  should 
like  you  to  come  and  hear  what  Brother  Wright  says, 
and  Ezra.  Brother  Wright  is  considered  very  elo- 
quent. I  can't  always  understand  him  myself,  but 
that  is  my  own  deficiency! " 

"I  would  much  prefer  talking  with  you,  Mrs. 
Weston,"  said  the  stranger  hastily.  "  I  am  very  rest- 
ive under  men's  teaching,  but  I  am  docile  enough 
when  led  by  a  woman's  gentle  hand." 


90  PERFECTION  CITY. 

"  Why  are  you  living  here  ?  "  asked  Olive  suddenly. 
"  You  seem  so  unsuited  to  this  life." 

"  I  am  sick  of  civilization  and  all  its  horrors,"  said 
he.  "  I  wanted  to  get  away  to  something  fresh  and 
new." 

"  That  is  almost  like  what  a  Pioneer  would  say," 
remarked  Olive  with  a  smile.  "  They  don't  think 
very  highly  of  what  civilization  has  done  so  far." 

"  Materially  it  has  done  much,  morally  it  has  done 
badly  for  a  good  number  of  human  beings,"  he  re- 
marked. 

"  I  think  you  sound  like  a  very  hopeful  convert 
to  the  principles  of  communism.  Why  don't  you  come 
to  Perfection  City?"  asked  Olive. 

"  Would  you  be  glad  to  see  me  there,  Mrs.  Wes- 
ton?" 

"'  Certainly,  Mr.  Perseus,  and  I  should  be  so  pleased 
to  make  you  and  my  husband  known  to  each,  other." 

He  looked  at  her  curiously  for  some  moments  and 
then  said,  "Why  do  you  call  me  Mr.  Perseus?" 

Olive  gave  him  one  horrified  glance  and  then, 
blushed  scarlet. 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,"  she  stammered  in  great 
confusion.  "  I  did  not  know  I  said  so.  I  really  am 
most  sorry." 

"But  why  that  name?"  he  persisted,  still  looking 
at  her  blushing  face. 

"  I  may  as  well  tell  you  the  truth,"  she  said  still 
much  confused.    "  The  fact  is  I  forgot  what  you  said 


MR.  PERSEUS.  91 

your  name  was,  and  my  husband  suggested  in  a  joke 
that  I  should  call  you  Perseus,  because — because " 

"  I  rescued  you  in  distress,^'  said  he  as  he  broke 
into  a  deep  musical  laugh.  "  It  is  a  capital  name,  I 
am  delighted  with  it/' 

"  I  am  so  ashamed  of  myself,"  said  Olive,  also 
laughing,  "  but  I  was  in  the  habit  of  speaking  of 
you  as  Mr.  Perseus,  and  the  name  slipped  off  my 
tongue  unawares.  What  is  your  real  name?  Pray 
tell  me." 

"  Not  for  worlds,  dear  Mrs.  Weston.  To  you  I 
shall  remain  Mr.  Perseus,  and  I  shall  never  think 
of  the  name  without  a  thrill  of  pleasure." 

"  But  this  is  most  unfair,"  said  Olive.  "  You  know 
my  name  and  who  I  am  and  all  about  me,  and  yet 
I  am  to  be  kept  in  the  dark  as  to  your  identity." 

"  Forgive  my  not  doing  at  once  what  you  wish, 
but  really  I  cannot.  This  will  be  a  sweet  little  inno- 
cent romance  to  me,  and  before  you  I  shall  appear  in 
my  very  best  light,  leaving  all  the  vices  and  evils  of 
my  real  nature  behind  me  for  the  time.  Ah  no!  don't 
deprive  me  of  such  a  harmless  joy.  If  you  knew  what 
a  lonely  uncared  for  life  is  mine,  your  tender  heart 
would  be  touched." 

Her  heart  was  touched  by  the  quiver  in  his  deep 
voice,  as  he  intended  it  should  be,  and  Olive  did  not 
press  her  point  any  further.  They  rode  on  together 
talking  about  a  hundred  subjects,  and  she  found  him 

the  most  agreeable  of  men.     She  happened  to  men- 

7 


92  PERFECTION  CITY. 

tion  a  great  novel  just  then  coming  out  in  Harper's, 
the  scene  of  which  was  laid  in  Florence,  and  he  said 
musingly: 

"  Ah  yes!  Florence  is  a  lovely  city,  nestling  among 
the  blue  hills." 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  it  then?  "  asked  Olive  much 
surprised. 

"Yes,  long  ago,  when  I  was  a  young  fellow." 

She  gazed  at  him.  "  You  are  a  most  incompre- 
hensible person,"  she  said,  "  living  here  on  this  prairie 
and  yet  you  have  seen  Florence." 

"  You  forget  Perseus  travels  easily  with  his  winged 
feet,  from  here  to  Florence  would  be  a  bagatelle  to 
him." 

"  I  begin  to  think  there  must  be  something  uncan- 
ny about  you." 

"  Now  don't  go  and  change  me  into  any  other  per- 
sonality. Eemember  you  are  all-powerful,  and  by  your 
word  alone  have  made  me  Perseus.  Your  word  is 
mighty,  and  you  can  cast  me  down  into  hell  and  make 
me  a  devil  by  a  breath,"  said  he  half  banteringly. 

"What  odd  language! "  said  Olive,  looking  a  little 
frightened.  "  How  you  must  astonish  the  natives 
when  you  talk  in  that  way!  " 

"  Do  you  fancy  I  talk  to  anyone  as  I  do  to  you? 
Don't  you  understand  that  I  am  Perseus  to  you,  but 
to  nobody  else  in  the  world?  " 

Olive  laughed,  and  put  her  horse  to  a  canter  in 
order  to  snap  the  thread  of  talk  which  was  becoming 


MR.  PERSEUS.  93 

too  difficult  for  her.  Mr.  Perseus  remained  in  her 
company  while  she  was  driving  home  the  cattle,  but 
they  had  no  further  particular  conversation,  as  the  ex- 
igencies of  driving  the  herd  occupied  their  attention 
niost  of  the  time.  On  parting  from  her  about  a  mile 
from  her  home,  he  promised  to  come  some  day  to  see 
her,  and  Olive  added,  "  I  do  hope  Ezra  will  be  in,  for 
I  should  so  like  you  two  to  talk  together.  I  am  sure 
you  have  much  in  common." 

"  We  have  one  point  in  common,  at  all  events," 
thought  Mr.  Perseus  as  he  rode  away  back  towards 
the  Big  Cotton  Wood  Creek,  "  but  I  doubt  very  much 
if  that  would  at  all  add  to  the  harmony  of  our  rela- 
tions." 

Olive  was  full  of  her  meeting  with  Mr.  Perseus, 
an  account  of  which  she  retailed  to  Ezra  at  supper. 

"And  just  fancy  his  oddity!    He  wouldn't  tell  me 
his  real  name  after  my  unlucky  slip,  so  he  is  Mr.  Per- 
*Beus  to  the  end  of  the  chapter,  I  suppose.    He  thought 
it  such  a  joke." 

"  So  he  saw  the  application,"  remarked  Ezra. 
"  He  must  be  a  man  of  education." 

"  He  is  a  most  superior  man,  I  can  see  that.  He 
has  read  everything  I  ever  did  and  more  too.  And 
do  you  know,  Ezra,  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  he  had  lean- 
ings towards  community-life,  many  things  he  said 
pointed  that  way.  Wouldn't  it  be  funny  if  I  were 
to  be  the  one  to  bring  in  your  first  convert,  poor  little 
me  that  never  had  any  leanings  until  I  saw  you." 


94:  PERFECTION  CITY. 

Ezra  looked  sharply  at  his  wife  during  this  speech, 
for  a  sudden  and  by  no  means  pleasant  suspicion 
sprang  into  his  mind  concerning  the  mysterious  Mr. 
Perseus.  However,  Olive  looked  so  perfectly  innocent 
of  even  all  knowledge  of  evil  that  he  felt  ashamed  of 
himself. 

"  I  wouldn't  be  too  friendly  with  this  man.  We 
don't  know  an3^thing  about  him,  nor  who  he  is,  remem- 
ber," remarked  Ezra. 

"  He  said  he  knew  you  and  that  you  were  a  fine- 
looking  man,  you  old  dear,  and  he  is  acquainted  with 
most  of  the  members  of  the  Community  by  sight. 
Besides,  I  thought  it  was  a  point  of  etiquette  on  the 
prairie  to  make  no  inquiries  into  a  person's  character, 
but  to  take  him  in  his  boots  just  as  he  stands,  and  ask 
him  to  dinner.  Don't  you  remember  Charlie  Clarke, 
and  how  he  came  to  supper  by  your  invitation  and 
you  found  him  so  pleasant,  and  he  a  horse-thief  and  a 
murderer  all  the  while,  only  we  didn't  know  it." 

This  was  all  very  true,  but  Charlie  Clarke  had 
evinced  no  "  leanings  "  to  community-life,  and  above 
all  Olive  had  been  profoundly  uninterested  in  him  and 
was  delighted  when  he  left.  Ezra  hated  himself  for 
the  feeling  in  his  heart,  but  he  had  his  suspicions  of 
Mr.  Perseus,  and  he  knew  his  wife  was  distractingly 
pretty.  So  he  advised  her  to  keep  aloof  from  Mr. 
Perseus  as  much  as  practicable.  Several  times  after- 
wards he  made  excuses  to  go  riding  with  her,  which 
Olive   enjoyed  immensely,  but  then  something  was 


MR.  PERSEUS.  95 

said  to  her  about  his  shirking  his  share  of  the  work, 
and  she  was  furiously  angry.  She  wanted  her  hus- 
band to  be  first,  and  since  the  only  theatre  for  the  ex- 
hibition of  his  abilities  was  the  somewhat  restricted  one 
of  Perfection  City,  she  wanted  him  to  be  always  near 
the  front. 

"  Shirking  indeed!  "  she  said  tossing  her  pretty 
head.  "  I'll  have  Mary  Winkle  know  my  husband 
never  shirked  in  his  life." 

In  a  blaze  of  wrath  she  met  Ezra  and  ordered  him 
to  go  to  work  and  never  mind  riding  with  her  till 
the  harvest  was  over.  She  wouldn't  ride  any  more, 
she  would  work  until  she  was  black  in  the  face.  Shirk- 
ing indeed!  She'd  let  Mary  Winkle  see!  And  so  on 
and  so  forth,  till  her  burst  of  anger  had  spent  itself. 

Olive  was  not  slow  to  perceive  that  her  husband 
had  some  sort  of  dislike  to  the  idea  of  her  seeing  Mr. 
Perseus.  She  could  not  exactly  explain  to  herself 
why  this  should  be,  and  she  was  heartily  sorry  for  it. 
She  had  fancied  that  in  time  Mr.  Perseus  might  possibly 
come  to  be  a  member  of  the  Community.  She  would 
indeed  have  been  frankly  glad  to  have  him  become  a 
brother,  for,  as  far  as  she  could  judge,  he  seemed  a 
man  of  brilliant  parts,  and  certainly  his  manners  were 
most  charming.  To  tell  the  truth,  she  found  the 
members  as  a  whole  very  uninteresting.  Mary  Winkle 
she  positively  disliked,  and  yet  she  was  the  one  near- 
est to  her  own  age.  She  sometimes  wondered  how 
Ezra  could  be  satisfied  with  the   companionship   of 


96  PERFECTION  CITY. 

those  same  people,  who  seemed  to  her  to  be  walking 
in  such  a  narrow  circle,  and  always  to  be  saying  the 
same  things  in  pretty  nearly  the  same  words.  Now, 
Mr.  Perseus  said  such  original  things  and  in  such  a 
charming  voice.  Altogether  it  was  a  pity  that  Ezra 
should  have  taken  a  prejudice  into  his  head  against 
this  stranger.  Olive  wondered  whether,  if  they  met, 
the  mutual  recognition  of  their  abilities  would  dissi- 
pate her  husband's  suspicions.  Such  being  her  no- 
tions, it  was  most  unlucky  that  the  first  time  Mr. 
Perseus  came  to  see  them  Ezra  should  have  been  gone 
to  Union  Mills.  He  went  so  very  seldom  that  it  was 
a  most  unfortunate  coincidence,  as  she  explained  to 
Mr.  Perseus,  who  did  not  in  return  explain  that  hav- 
ing himself  seen  Ezra  at  Union  Mills  he  had  straight- 
way ridden  oif  to  visit  her,  and  ridden  so  hard  too  that 
his  horse  was  in  a  white  lather  when  he  arrived  at 
Perfection  City  by  a  somewhat  circuitous  route.  Na- 
poleon Pompey  was  gone,  so  Olive  showed  him  where 
to  put  his  horse  in  the  dark  stable  so  that  the  flies 
would  not  torment  the  animal.  She  remarked  on  the 
horse's  state  and  asked  Mr.  Perseus  had  he  been  run- 
ning down  cattle,  and  he  muttered  something  about 
young  horses  showing  every  bit  of  work  in  hot  weather. 
He  was  profoundly  interested  in  Olive's  little  home. 
She  showed  him  with  pride  the  garden  she  had  made, 
where  already  the  balsams  were  just  coming  into  blos- 
som; she  then  took  him  to  see  the  prairie  chickens 
she  was  trying  to  rear,  little  black  and  yellow  downy 


MR.  PERSEUS.  97 

things,  with  fierce  wild  eyes  utterly  untamed  and 
only  looking  out  for  a  favourable  opportunity  to  make 
a  dash  for  freedom. 

"  Do  you  think  I  can  ever  tame  them?  "  asked 
Olive,  as  she  noted  the  hostile  manner  in  which  they 
scuttled  away  from  her  food-giving  hand. 

"  If  anyone  could  tame  them  you  could,  the  un- 
grateful little  brutes! "  remarked  Mr.  Perseus. 

"  I  don't  see  that  it  is  ungrateful  of  them  to  resent 
being  taken  from  their  proper  home  and  natural  moth- 
er to  be  put  under  a  fat  stupid  hen,"  said  Olive. 

"  No,  but  it  is  rank  ingratitude  not  to  be  tame  to 
you,"  said  he. 

"I  don't  think  you  are  truthful,"  said  Olive 
bluntly. 

"Why?"  asked  Mr.  Perseus. 

"  Because  you  are  always  saying  things  like  that," 
she  answered,  somewhat  resentfully. 

"  Well,  I  do  call  that  hard,"  complained  Mr.  Per- 
seus, "  to  charge  a  fellow  with  being  untruthful  when 
he  was  shaking  in  his  shoes  from  terror  at  having  per- 
haps let  out  too  much  of  the  truth." 

Olive  looked  down  at  his  big  boots,  knitting  her 
brows,  and  then  led  the  way  into  the  house. 

"  I'll  get  you  some  dinner.  I  am  sure  you  are 
hungry,"  she  said  hospitably,  it  being  about  two  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon. 

"I  am  hungry,  starving,  mind,  body,  and  soul," 
said  her  visitor  in  reply. 


93  PERFECTION  CITY. 

"  I'll  get  a  chicken-pie  for  you,  that  will  go  some 
way,"  answered  Olive  with  a  laugh. 

"  And  if  you  will  talk  with  me,  that  will  go  far 
to  complete  the  work  of  charity,"  said  he. 

Olive  brought  him  the  food,  and  he  set  to  work 
upon  it,  being  evidently,  as  he  said,  very  hungry. 

^'  Do  you  know  I  am  beginning  to  look  upon  Per- 
fection City  as  a  sort  of  earthly  paradise,"  said  Mr. 
Perseus. 

"  Indeed." 

"  Yes,  a  paradise  from  which  I  am  shut  out.  Have 
you  any  young  men  here,  Mrs.  Weston,  unmarried 
men,  or  are  they  against  your  rules?  " 

"  No.  Unmarried  men  are  not  against  our  rules," 
said  Olive  archly.  "We  had  one  here  lately,  but  we 
haven't  now." 

"Why,  what  did  you  do  with  him?"  asked  Mr. 
Perseus,  in  some  surprise. 

"I  married  him,"  said  Olive  dimpling  and  blush- 
ing. 

"  Lucky  beggar!  "  remarked  her  visitor,  turning 
again  to  his  dinner. 

Mr.  Perseus  stayed  some  time,  but  refused  Olive's 
invitation  to  wait  to  see  her  husband,  saying  as  an 
excuse  that  he  had  a  long  way  to  ride  home.  Olive 
wanted  to  know  where  he  lived,  but  he  laughingly 
put  her  off.  He  would  not  tell  her,  lest  she  should 
discover  his  real  name,  and  then  much  of  the  romance 
of  his  life  would  be  destroyed. 


MR.,  PERSEUS.  99 

"You  don't  know  what  this  is  to  me,  and  how 
when  I  am  leading  my  lonely  life,  I  recall  every  word 
and  look  and  again  go  through  these  meetings,  Mrs. 
Weston.  I  suppose  it  seems  silly  to  you,  but  remem- 
ber, human  companionship  is  man's  most  precious 
inheritance,  and  those  who  have  but  little  of  it  prize 
what  they  have  at  perhaps  an  extravagant  figure.  Did 
you  ever  hear  of  Silvio  Pellico  ?  "  he  asked  abruptly. 

"  No,"  replied  Ohve. 

"  Well,  he  was  a  prisoner  entirely  shut  off  from 
human  companionship,  and  he  at  last  made  friends 
with  a  spider,  and  at  length  the  spider  was  crushed 
by  the  turnkey's  foot,  and  Silvio  wept  tears  of  an- 
guish. I  am  like  a  prisoner  out  here  on  this  desolate 
prairie." 

"And  am  I  hke  the  horrible  spider,  then?"  said 
Olive  brightly. 

"Mrs.  Weston!"  he  exclaimed  reproachfully.  "I 
have  opened  my  heart  to  you  because  I  felt  that  you 
could  feel  with  me,  although  the  world  might  count 
us  as  strangers,  but  I  thought  you  would  understand 
what  I  meant  even  when  I  blundered  through  the  ex- 
pression of  my  thoughts.  This  is  the  first  time  you 
have  misunderstood  me.  But  I  believe  it  was  only 
pretended  misunderstanding  and  that  you  do  know 
what  I  meant." 

He  said  good-bye,  and  left  Olive  with  a  feeling  of 
sadness  and  oppression  on  her  mind.  He  had  not  been 
as  bright  as  before,  and  she  wondered  who  he  was 


100  PERFECTIO:^  CITY. 

and  why  he  was  so  anxious  not  to  see  anyone  but  her. 
She  mentioned  his  visit  to  Ezra,  but  somehow  she 
had  less  to  tell  about  him  than  on  former  occasions. 
There  seemed  nothing  to  say.  Ezra,  too,  did  not  ap- 
pear as  much  amused  as  formerly  at  the  joke  of  Mr. 
Perseus.    No  doubt  it  was  getting  stale  by  this  time. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

FIRST   LESSONS. 

Summer  came  on  apace.  The  field  had  been  duly 
run  over  in  both  directions  with  the  shovel-plough, 
so  as  to  leave  between  the  cross-ploughing  little  "hills" 
of  earth,  out  of  which  sprang  the  corn-clumps.  The 
broad  green  ribbons  of  leaves  fluttered  in  the  wind, 
making  a  soft  murmur  as  of  a  forest.  Olive  took  great 
delight  in  her  little  flower-garden  at  the  east  end  of 
the  house,  and  worked  and  weeded  at  it  both  early  and 
late.  Napoleon  Pompey,  typical  negro  boy,  which 
being  interpreted  means  laziest  of  mortals,  forgot  his 
laziness  to  work  for  "  Mis'  Ollie  "  as  he  called  her. 
Together  they  had  planted  their  balsams,  trained  their 
morning-glory,  and  rooted  out  brown  beetles  with  zeal, 
to  be  amply  repaid  in  July  by  a  glorious  profusion  of 
blossoms. 

"  This  is  my  very  ownest  own  garden,"  said  Olive, 
exhibiting  her  balsams  with  pride  to  Ezra.  "  Mind, 
this  is  not  community-land,  it's  mine." 

"  Does  it  make  you  enjoy  the  flowers  more  to  think 
that  nobody  else  has  them?  "  asked  Ezra,  with  a  tinge 

101 


102  PERFECTION  CITY. 

of  sadness  in  his  voice.  "  Would  it  make  you  any  the 
happier  to  keep  the  sunshine  all  to  yourself,  do  you 
think?" 

"  No,  certainly  not,  that's  quite  different.  But  I've 
planted  these  flowers  and  grown  them.  I  shall  give 
them  to  whomsoever  I  like.  You  for  instance."  She 
smiled  coaxingly  at  him. 

"  Y^ou  pretty  child/'  he  said,  disarmed. 

"  Why,  I  brought  some  over  to  Mrs.  Carpenter 
to-day.  I  went  to  help  her  with  her  washing.  And, 
do  you  know!  "  said  Olive,  "  I  was  so  amused." 

"At  what?" 

"  Mr.  Carpenter  was  educating  his  children." 

"  He's  always  doing  that,"  said  Ezra. 

"  Yes,  but  to-day  there  was  a  special  lesson.  He 
was  at  Union  Mills  yesterday,  and  he  got  a  present 
for  both  of  them,  I  mean  two  presents,  one  for  Johnny 
and  one  for  Nelly.  You  know  he  is  always  saying 
boys  and  girls  would  have  the  same  tastes  if  they  were 
brought  up  in  the  same  way." 

"  He'll  find  out  one  day,  maybe,  that  boys  will  be 
boys,  no  matter  how  you  bring  them  up." 

"  He  has  found  it  out  already.  Wait  till  you  hear. 
By  way  of  correcting  any  early  bias,  he  gave  a  hammer 
and  nails  to  Nelly  and  a  doll  to  Johnny." 

"You  don't  say  so!    What  did  the  children  do?" 

"  Well,  they  went  off  without  a  word,  each  carrying 
its  toy,  and  Mr.  Carpenter  told  me  his  ideas  about 
education,  and  how  well  they  worked.     Suddenly  we 


FIRST  LESSONS.  103 

heard  shrieks  from  behind  the  wood-pile  where  the 
children  were  playing.  We  ran  out  to  see  what  was 
the  matter.  Nelly  had  got  a  handkerchief  tied  over 
the  head  of  her  hammer,  and  she  was  cuddling  it  to 
sleep  in  her  arms.  Johnny  had  got  some  of  the  nails 
and  was  trying  to  drive  them  into  a  piece  of  wood  with 
the  head  of  the  doll  for  hammer.  Nelly  was  scream- 
ing because  he  was  killing  poor  Dolly." 

Ezra  laughed,  and  Olive  joined  in  at  the  recollec- 
tion of  the  scene.  "  You  cannot  think  how  disap- 
pointed Mr.  Carpenter  looked.  His  wife  said  he'd 
got  something  to  do  if  he  was  expecting  to  cure  little 
girls  of  dolls  in  a  hurry.  We  changed  the  presents  and 
left  him  to  reconcile  it  with  his  theories  as  best  he 
could;  both  children  were  quite  happy  and  contented 
afterwards." 

"Poor  Carpenter!  He'll  have  to  learn  by  bitter 
experience  that  he  cannot  change  human  nature  all 
at  once,"  said  Ezra,  sympathetically.  "  I  fear  children 
are  still  in  the  savage  stage  of  development,  they  are 
not  communists." 

"  Nobody  is  communist  about  things  they  care  very 
much  about,"  said  Olive,  in  desperate  courage. 

"Why,  Ollie!  What  a  thing  to  say!  I  am  a  thor- 
ough-going communist  I  hope.  I'd  give  the  coat  off 
my  back  without  a  pang." 

"  Of  course  you  would,  because  it  is  a  horrid  old 
thing  any  way,  and  men  look  frights  in  coats  always. 
Men  don't  care  about  clothes,  only  just  to  cover  them- 


104  PERFECTION  CITY. 

selves  and  keep  themselves  warm.  One  rag  would  do 
as  well  as  another." 

"  You  are  an  incorrigible  little  individualist  and 
a  greedy  one  as  well,  I  do  declare/'  said  Ezra,  half 
laughing  at  her  vehemence. 

"  No,  it's  not  that,  only  I  see  what  is  what,"  re- 
plied Olive  oracularly. 

"And  what  might  that  be?" 

"  The  Pioneers  are  only  communistic  for  rubbish 
and  rags,  and  not  for  dolls  and  hammers.  That's  what 
they  are,"  said  Olive,  with  her  face  aflame. 

"  Eubbish  and  rags!  What  an  absurd  thing  to 
say.  Who  ever  heard  such  nonsense?"  said  Ezra, 
loftily  ignoring  his  wife's  argument  in  a  way  that  wise 
men  often  affect. 

"  'Tisn't  nonsense,"  said  Olive  hotly.  "  It  is  just 
what  people  say  of  Perfection  City." 

"  What  people  say  it?  "  asked  Ezra. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Perseus  for  one,"  said  Olive,  repenting 
of  her  daring  in  getting  into  the  subject  at  all. 

"  Mr.  Perseus,"  repeated  Ezra  with  a  sudden  frown, 
'^  so  you  talk  over  our  principles  with  him.  When  did 
you  do  so  last?  " 

"  I  don't  know  exactly  when.  The  other  day.  He 
often  passes  by  here  on  his  way  cattle-hunting.  Some- 
times he  looks  in  for  a  moment,  but  sometimes  he  can't 
stay  long,  only  to  water  his  horse.  Of  course  I  talk 
over  the  principles  that  have  made  you  found  a  City 
here.     Don't  you  suppose  people  know  about  them 


FIRST  LESSONS.  105 

and  talk  them  over  eagerly?  They  are  different  enough 
from  the  generality  of  people's  ideas,  and  Mr.  Perseus 
said  they  considered  you  only  went  a  little  way  into 
communism,  and  had  a  little  bit  of  this  and  a  little 
bit  of  that  in  common,  and  weren't  at  all  logical. 
People  sneer  at  Perfection  City,  I  can  assure  you." 

"  And  you,  doubtless,  enjoyed  his  sneers,"  retorted 
Ezra  injudiciously. 

"  No,  I  didn't,  only  I  saw  what  other  people  say 
of  us.  Mr.  Perseus,  even,  once  said  he'd  like  to 
come  and  be  a  communist  himself,  if  we  were  only 
consistent  throughout,  and  lived  up  to  our  princi- 
ples." 

"  You  may  tell  your  friend  Perseus  that  he  would 
not  be  a  welcome  recruit,"  said  Ezra,  in  considerable 
agitation.  "  I  may  as  well  tell  you  now  what  I  have 
suspected  for  some  time.  I  know  pretty  well  who 
your  mysterious  Mr.  Perseus  is.  He  is  a  man  of  the 
name  of  Cotterell.  I  know  him  very  well  by  sight 
and  better  still  by  reputation.  To  convince  you,  I  will 
just  mention  a  point  or  two  about  his  appearance.  He 
is  about  five  feet  ten  in  height,  very  fair  in  complexion, 
with  a  yellow  moustache,  and  bright  blue  eyes,  and 
whenever  he  takes  his  hat  off  you  see  the  blue  veins 
very  markedly  on  his  temples.  He  is,  I  suppose,  what 
a  woman  would  call  a  very  handsome  man,  and  he 
usually  rides  a  black  horse  with  a  blaze  on  his  face 
and  white  hind  feet." 

"  Yes,  that's  the  man,"  said  Olive  who  remembered 


106  PERFECTION  CITY. 

the  horse  well,  and  who  moreover  recognized  the  per- 
fect accuracy  of  her  husband's  description. 

"  Very  well.  Now  I  will  tell  you  something  about 
his  character  and  history.  He  is  an  Englishman  and 
perhaps  has  been  badly  brought  up.  At  all  events  he 
hasn't  the  morals  we  approve  of.  I  know  his  libertine 
London  ways.  He  probably  didn't  tell  you  about  it, 
but  I  remember  very  well  the  poor  girl  who  shot 
herself  the  first  summer  we  came  here,  because  Cot- 
terell  had  abandoned  her.  If  the  neighbours  had  been 
quite  sure  of  all  the  facts  of  the  case,  there  would  in 
all  probability  have  been  a  shooting  party  at  Cotterell's 
house,  so  I  was  told.  But  they  were  not  quite  sure 
so  they  gave  him  the  benefit  of  the  doubt.  Accord- 
ingly he  still  has  his  handsome  face  to  go  on  with  and 
maybe  wreck  more  homes.  That  is  the  career  of  Mr. 
Cotterell,  alias  Mr.  Perseus,"  said  Ezra  with  consider- 
able heat. 

"  It  was  you  who  gave  him  the  name  of  Perseus," 
replied  Olive  also  much  agitated.  "  He  did  not  appear 
under  a  false  name  of  his  own  accord.  And  now  that 
you  tell  me  his  real  name  I  remember  that  was  the 
one  he  gave  the  first  time  I  saw  him,  and  he  asked 
me  if  I  had  ever  heard  it  before." 

"  I  won't  say  anything  on  that  point,  it  may  have 
been  a  joke  on  his  part,  but  it  must  stop  now.  Un- 
derstand me,  Olive.  I  don't  wish  to  seem  harsh,  but 
you  must  not  meet  and  talk  with  this  man  again. 
If  you  chance  on  him,  pass  by  and  say  you  can  have 


FIRST  LESSONS.  107 

no  further  communication  with  him.  If  he  urges  an 
objection,  say  I  have  forbidden  you  to  see  him,  as 
I  do  forbid  you,  here  and  now.  He  will  take  that 
for  an  answer,  scoundrel  as  he  is,  for  among  people  of 
his  stamp  personal  vanity  does  duty  for  better  feel- 
ings. He  won't  come  again  to  a  house  where  the  lady 
has  once  shown  him  the  door.  You  don't  in  the  least 
understand  what  his  motives  are  in  this  new-fangled 
interest  of  his  in  Perfection  City,  but  I  understand 
them  very  clearly,  and  my  wish  is  that  you  never  see 
him  again.    Harm  is  sure  to  come  of  it  if  you  do." 

Olive  was  very  much  alarmed  at  her  husband's 
stern  manner  and  peremptory  order,  but  she  was  also 
indignant.  Mr.  Perseus  or  Cotterell,  as  she  must  now 
call  him,  had  shown  great  respect  and  deference  to 
her  and  had  evinced  a  desire  to  be  guided  by  her  to 
higher  aspirations.  She  was  not  sure  of  the  meaning 
of  some  of  his  remarks,  or  rather  she  wished  she  could 
find  some  other  reasonable  explanation  for  them  than 
the  one  most  people  would  undoubtedly  attach  to  them. 
Still  she  resented  her  husband's  masterful  manner. 

"  I  will  of  course  obey  your  orders,  Ezra,"  she 
said  with  a  tart  emphasis  on  the  word  which  made 
him  wince,  "  because  I  hold  old-fashioned  ideas  of 
what  wifely  duty  is,  quite  at  variance  with  the  high 
standard  of  individual  liberty  as  maintained  and  ex- 
plained, I  believe,  by  the  brethren  of  Perfection  City. 
You  may  rest  quite  satisfied,  I  will  obey  you." 

Having  thus  stabbed  her  husband  in  his  most  vul- 
8 


108  PERFECTION  CITY. 

nerable  point  and  dexterously  driven  the  poignard  up 
to  the  hilt  in  the  wound,  Olive  walked  away,  leaving 
Ezra  to  feel  himself  a  selfish  brute. 

Ezra  spent  a  wretched  half-day  of  self-reproach, 
and  then  crept  back  repentant,  begging  to  be  for- 
given for  being  a  tyrant  to  his  poor  little  pet.  And 
his  little  pet  who  had  paid  for  her  pride  with  abundant 
tears,  allowed  him  to  kiss  her  and  fondle  her  and  call 
her  sweet  silly  names,  while  she  declared  she  never 
cared  to  see  or  speak  to  that  wretched  Mr.  Cotterell 
again,  and  no  wonder  he  was  ashamed  of  his  own 
name,  etc.,  etc.,  all  in  the  most  foolish  and  approved 
manner  possible  to  the  newly  married. 

All  the  same,  after  a  time  Olive  began  to  feel  sorry 
for  Mr.  Cotterell,  and  to  pity  him  for  the  very  errors 
of  his  past  life,  about  which  she  now  saw  that  he  was 
penitent  without  wishing  to  explain  to  her  why.  Also 
she  had  very  much  enjoyed  meeting  him;  he  was  so 
fresh,  cultivated,  and  original,  in  his  conversation.  It 
was  really  very  dull  sometimes  with  no  one  to  talk  to, 
and  the  long  hot  day  shimmering  by,  making  her  feel 
as  if  she  were  a  potato  being  slowly  baked  in  a  hot- 
air  oven.  There  was  no  excitement  in  the  house-work 
and — and  it  was  very  dreary  sometimes.  Men  delight 
in  reverting  to  primitive  savagery.  The  most  highly 
civilized  man  "  reverts  "  in  a  way  which  is  surprising 
both  for  completeness  and  for  rapidity,  but  women 
hate  the  process.  Savage  woman  was  a  slave,  and  the 
more  completely  a  woman  becomes  subject  to  primitive 


FIRST  LESSONS.  109 

conditions  the  more  closely  she  resembles  a  slave,  and 
is  in  virtual  bondage  either  to  some  human  being  or 
to  hampering  circumstances. 

Of  appropriate  companions  of  her  own  sex  Olive 
had  absolutely  none.  Mary  Winkle  was  a  rigid  re- 
former, a  person  all  angles,  of  the  sort  that  never  be- 
comes a  companion  to  anyone,  for  she  was  always  on 
the  war-path,  and,  besides,  between  her  and  Olive  there 
was  an  unexpressed,  but  no  less  real,  antipathy.  Her 
daughter,  Willette,  that  creature  half  boy,  half  girl, 
and  wholly  wild,  was  always  on  horseback  careering 
after  stray  cattle,  and  though  by  her  ignorance  and 
eccentricity  she  sometimes  amused  Olive,  she  had  really 
no  ideas  beyond  those  very  concrete  ones  impressed 
upon  her  from  without  by  her  open-air  life  on  the 
prairie.  Mrs.  Carpenter  was  a  good  soul,  but  a  mere 
stout  housewife,  with  no  ideas  and  only  one  hope, 
namely,  "  that  Carpenter  would  give  up  his  high- 
fallutin'  notions,  an'  go  back  to  York  State,  an'  settle 
down  comfortable  again,  an'  be  a  preacher  in  a  Baptist 
church."  Mrs.  Ruby  was  old  in  body,  but  the  young- 
est of  them  all  in  mind,  except  Uncle  David,  who  was 
her  senior  by  four  years.  Mrs.  Euby  believed  in  Per- 
fection City,  though  she  reserved  the  right  of  private 
judgment  on  certain  of  the  tenets  of  its  founders,  and 
in  particular,  she  had  lately  felt  misgivings  as  to  the 
worldly  wisdom  of  their  principle  of  non-resistance. 
She  knew,  however,  that  the  Pioneers  were  going  to 
show  the  world  the  new  and  better  way — the  way 


110  PEEFECTION  CITY. 

which  led  into  no  competition  for  supremacy,  but  into 
peaceful  paths  of  universal  progress.  Property  and 
its  attendant  imps,  greed,  strife,  jealousy,  envy,  hatred, 
and  malice,  were  all  banished  from  Perfection  City, 
and  in  their  place  peace  and  good-will  and  perfect  trust 
in  each  other  were  to  reign  forever.  It  was  a  high 
ideal,  but  not  a  new  one.  It  was  eighteen  centuries 
old,  though  it  had  never  yet  been  realised.  Mrs.  Euby 
and  Uncle  David  felt  sure  they  had  reached  the  ideal, 
and  all  through  Madame  Morozoff-Smith,  the  most 
whole-souled,  unselfish,  glorious  woman  of  her  cen- 
tury. It  was  a  pity  she  had  not  a  larger  theatre  in 
which  to  present  before  mankind  the  new  principles  of 
social  life  it  was  their  privilege  to  put  into  practice. 


CHAPTER  X. 

PRACTICAL   COMMUNISM. 

A  DAY  or  two  after  Ezra  had  laid  his  commands 
upon  his  wife,  as  w^e  saw  in  the  last  chapter,  he  came 
home  in  the  evening  to  find  her  in  floods  of  tears. 
Her  eyelids  were  all  red  with  weeping,  and  she  broke 
out  afresh  on  seeing  him. 

"  What's  the  matter?  "  asked  Ezra,  in  much  con- 
cern.   "  What  has  happened  ?  " 

"My  poor  flowers,  my  pretty  balsams!"  sobbed 
Olive. 

"  Has  the  calf  got  into  your  garden  and  spoiled 
your  flowers,  my  poor  child?  "  he  said  tenderly. 

"  No,  it  wasn't  the  calf,  but  they  are  all  gone. 
Mary  Winkle  took  them  all." 

"  Oh! "  said  Ezra  with  a  slight  shock  of  surprise. 

"  Yes,  she  has  cleared  the  whole  garden.  She 
came  to-day  while  I  was  out  at  Mrs.  Huntley's." 

"  How  do  you  know  it  is  she  who  has  taken  them?  " 

"  Napoleon   Pompey   told   me   he    saw   her   pick 

them." 

"  Depend  upon  it,  he  is  lying,"  said  Ezra  with 

111 


112  PERFECTION  CITY. 

emphasis.  "  Negroes  are  as  mischievous  as  monkeys, 
and " 

"  'No,  he  didn't  do  anything  to  the  flowers/'  inter- 
rupted Olive.  "  He  was  as  pleased  with  them  almost 
as  I  was  myself,  and  worked  ever  so  hard  to  help 
keep  down  the  weeds.  Besides,  I  went  to  Mary  Win- 
kle and  saw  them." 

"  Oh!  "  said  Ezra  helplessly.  He  wished  it  had 
been  the  calf  or  Napoleon  Pompey  or  anybody  or  any- 
thing rather  than  Mary  Winkle.  He  braced  himself 
for  what  was  coming. 

"  She  told  me  she  did  it  with  a  purpose.  She 
said  I  was  getting  more  individualistic  in  my  leanings 
every  day,  and  that  time  was,  not  curing  me  at  all, 
that  I  was  selfishly  proud  of  my  flowers.  It  isn't  one 
bit  true,"  sobbed  Olive,  with  quivering  chin.  "  I  gave 
heaps  of  them  away.  I  gathered  a  bunch  for  Mrs. 
Huntley  just  as  I  was  going  this  morning." 

Ezra  groaned.     "  I  know  you  did,  dear,"  he  said. 

"  She  said  I  gloated  over  them  and  rejoiced  be- 
cause nobody  else  had  any.  I  didn't.  I  only  loved 
them  because  I  had  tended  them  and  reared  them,  and 
I  knew  them  and  watched  for  their  buds.  She  said 
they  didn't  belong  to  me,  but  to  the  Community,  and 
that  she  took  them  on  behalf  of  the  general  weal. 
Those  are  all  grand  words  for  nasty  mean  jealousy  and 
covetousness,"  said  Olive  passionately.  "  I  hate  Mary 
Winkle  and  I  hate  the  Community." 

"  Oh,  Olive,  Olive! "  cried  Ezra  with  a  gesture  of 


PRACTICAL  COMMUNISM.  I13 

entreaty.     "  Don't  say  that,  dear.     It  strikes  me  to 
the  heart.     Think  of  me,  dear." 

"My  pretty  flowers!"  she  said  with  a  drooping 
of  her  mouth  that  betokened  fresh  tears. 

"  I  am  so  sorry,  oh,  more  sorry  than  I  can  say," 
said  Ezra.  "  Mary  Winkle  has  done  wrong,  and  has 
administered  a  lesson  in  a  cruel,  brutal  way." 

"  She  has  no  business  to  give  me  lessons  at  all, 
and  I  won't  take  them  from  her,"  cried  Olive  passion- 
ately. "  I  hate  being  the  one  to  be  always  taught. 
They  think  themselves  so  superior  and  are  always 
stooping  to  raise  me.  Let  them  raise  themselves  first. 
I  can  see  where  Mary  Winkle  needs  teaching  and  cor- 
rection as  plainly  as  anybody.  She  is  only  commu- 
nistic in  regard  to  things  she  doesn't  really  care  about." 

"  No,  no  Ollie,  darling.  It  is  really  a  deep  con- 
viction with  us  all,  although  in  this  case  most  un- 
kindly illustrated,"  said  Ezra  gently. 

"I  know  you  think  so  in  all  honesty,  but  it  isn't 
so  in  reality.  Nobody  is  nor  can  be  communistic  about 
what  they  love,  if  it  is  real  love.  If  they  are  commu- 
nistic about  a  thing  it  is  because  they  don't  really 
care." 

Ezra  knew  by  the  pang  of  jealousy  in  his  own 
heart  that  this  was  an  insurmountable  truth  his  little 
wife  was  hurling  forth  in  her  anger. 

"  Mary  Winkle  isn't  communistic.  I'm  not  clever 
and  able  to  say  wise  things  and  use  long  words  that 
amaze  people  like  Brother  Wright,  but  for  all  that  I 


Il4  PERFECTION  CITY. 

can  see  some  tilings  clearly  enough.  Mary  Winkle 
isn^t  any  more  communistic  than  I  am,  only  we  love 
different  things." 

"  I  think  you  mistake,"  said  Ezra. 

"  No,  I  don^t  mistake  one  bit.  Let  Mary  Winkle, 
if  she  is  communistic  in  all  the  moods  and  tenses, 
lump  her  child  with  the  two  little  Carpenters  and  draw 
lots  to  take  one  of  the  three  for  her  own.  Would  that 
satisfy  her  heart,  although  the  precious  principles 
would  be  right  enough?  Of  course  not,  because  her 
heart  would  step  in  and  claim  its  own  by  the  divine 
right  of  love.  I  should  be  thoroughly  communistic 
on  the  score  of  these  children.  I  shouldn't  mind  to 
draw  lots  as  to  w^hether  Willette  or  Nelly  or  Johnny 
Carpenter  was  going  to  come  to  live  with  me.  One 
would  do  as  well  as  another,  and  I  could  be  thor- 
oughly communistic,  because  I  don't  love  any  of  them 
very  deeply.  My  little  flowers  I  did  love.  It  wasn't 
that  I  had  worked  for  them  and  grudged  the  fruit  of 
my  labour.  I  would  work  in  a  turnip  field  and  let 
anyone  who  liked  have  the  turnips,  nasty,  watery, 
pulpy  things,  but  I  loved  those  flowers  and  tended  them 
and  they  were  mine.  I  don't  care  about  the  philoso- 
phy of  the  question.  You  will  perhaps  some  day  see 
what  I  mean,  Ezra,  and  understand  me.  I  know  you 
don't  now.    You  think  me  a  silly  child." 

In  his  own  heart  he  thought  he  understood  more 
clearly  than  he  liked  to  confess,  that  Olive  was  speak- 
ing more  than  philosophy,  she  was  announcing  stub- 


PRACTICAL  COMMUNISM.  I15 

born  facts.  However,  he  strove  his  utmost  to  soothe 
her  feelings,  for  he  could  see  that  if  an  attitude  of 
strife  and  hostility  were  once  set  up  between  her  and 
Mary  Winkle,  it  would  not  only  affect  his  wife's  hap- 
piness but  might  have  very  serious  results  upon  the 
future  of  Perfection  City.  There  were  only  a  very 
few  of  them,  and  if  the  experiment  was  to  succeed  it 
could  only  do  so  through  unity,  while  strife  and  in- 
ternal dissensions  would  certainly  destroy  it  with- 
out giving  it  a  chance.  This  point  was  fruitful  of  deep 
meditation,  and  occasioned  heart-searchings  to  Ezra. 
It  indeed  augured  ill  for  the  future,  not  only  of  Per- 
fection City,  but  of  all  those  other  cities  of  their  im- 
agination which  should  spring  from  this  mother  plant, 
if  the  personal  feelings  of  a  couple  of  good  women 
were  potent  enough  to  wreck  the  scheme.  Surely,  in 
the  dozen  or  so  choice  spirits  who  now  formed  the 
entire  population  of  that  City,  there  could  be  none 
of  those  latent  forces  making  for  destruction  which 
would  have  to  be  reckoned  with  in  the  future  and 
larger  experiments  in  communism  they  were  leading 
up  to.  If  it  was  so  difficult  to  soothe  ruffled  feelings 
in  Perfection  City  now,  and  to  compose  a  quarrel  about 
some  Avretched  little  balsams,  what  would  happen 
when,  in  a  larger  Perfection  City,  deeper  cause  of  dis- 
pute arose  between  numbers  of  persons?  Ezra's  mind 
recoiled  aghast  at  the  answer  which  rose  up  in  his 
mind  in  reply  to  that  question.  There  would  have 
to  be  some  strong,  some  overwhelming  central  power, 


116  PERFECTION  CITY. 

a  despot  in  short.  Was  this  then  the  goal  which  they 
were  to  reach  after  toiling  along  a  hard  and  stony 
road  of  personal  effort?  A  despotism  or  a  monasticism, 
in  either  case  tjTanny  and  subjection.  Surely,  oh 
surely,  there  must  be  some  other  solution  which  his 
mind,  disturbed  by  the  sight  of  his  little  wife's  dis- 
tress, had  unaccountably  failed  to,  formulate.  He 
would  go  to  Madame  and  would  seek  guidance  from 
her  illumined  mind. 

Olive,  spent  by  her  emotions,  had  gone  to  sleep 
quite  early,  so  Ezra  sallied  forth  to  seek  counsel  where 
he  was  used  to  find  it.  Madame  would  be  sure  to  be 
still  up — though  it  was  late  by  prairie  hours,  after 
nine  o'clock — as  he  knew  by  experience,  for  in  his 
bachelor  days  he  had  often  spent  long  evenings  in  dis- 
cussion and  talk  with  her.  Since  his  marriage,  how- 
ever, he  had  never  gone  alone  in  the  evening  to  talk 
with  Madame.  Happy  in  his  own  love,  he  had  felt 
no  need  of  other  companionship,  and  now  as  he  walked 
along  to  her  house,  he  began  to  wonder  if  she  had 
noticed  the  sudden  cessation  of  the  evening  talks,  and 
also  to  wonder  if  she  had  missed  them.  It  was  thought- 
less never  to  have  gone  near  her  during  all  these 
weeks.  It  was  selfish,  seeing  how  kind,  how  always 
sympathetic  she  had  been  to  him  for  so  many  months, 
during  the  time  when  he  felt  lonely  and  full  of  unde- 
fined longings,  before  his  heart  had  found  complete 
rest  in  Olive's  love  and  above  all  in  his  love  for  her. 
Ezra  thinking  of  these  things  was  smitten  with  re- 


PRACTICAL  COMMUNISM.  117 

morse,  and  made  a  resolution  to  go  and  see  Madame 
of  an  evening  sometimes  and  to  bring  Olive  with  him. 
Meantime  he  walked  along  and  in  a  few  moments 
knocked  at  the  familiar  door.  Madame  opened  it  her- 
self, with  Balthasar  in  close  attendance.  The  latter, 
on  satisfying  himself  that  it  was  a  person  of  friendly 
intentions  who  claimed  admittance,  walked  back  to 
the  spot  where  he  had  been  lying,  and  resumed  the 
thread  of  his  interrupted  slumbers. 

"  Brother  Ezra,  this  is  indeed  a  most  unexpected 
visit.  I  hope  it  is  not  because  there  is  anything  wrong 
in  your  little  home,"  said  Madame  gravely. 

Ezra  felt  much  embarrassed.  He  could  hardly  say 
there  was  nothing  the  matter,  and  still  less  could  he 
apologise  for  having  forgotten  during  all  these  happy 
weeks  to  come  to  see  her.  He  did  the  best  thing 
under  the  circumstances.  He  ignored  Madame's  re- 
mark and  question,  and  plunged  boldly  into  the  busi- 
ness which  had  brought  him. 

She  listened  gravely  without  making  any  observa- 
tion, but  occasionally  the  faintest  shadow  of  a  smile 
fluttered  around  her  lips.  Ezra  watched  her  face  some- 
what anxiously.  In  the  old  days,  he  had  been  used  to 
read  her  face  when  they  talked  together,  and  to  catch 
the  meaning  of  her  words  from  the  mobile  and  ever- 
changing  expression  of  her  clear  blue  eyes.  But  to- 
day, somehow,  as  he  looked,  he  felt  he  had  lost  the 
power  to  read.  The  face  was  now  a  mask  which  seemed 
to  conceal  the  real  woman  underneath,  and  yet  it  was 


118  PERFECTION  CITY. 

the  same  fair  smooth  brow,  the  same  sharply  defined 
eyebrows,  and,  beneath,  the  same  eyes.  No,  the  eyes 
were  not  the  same.  They  no  longer  looked  clear  and 
full  at  Ezra,  but  were  often  averted  in  a  strange  and 
uncertain  manner,  as  if  seeking  to  hide  or  to  flee.  At 
least  such  was  the  curious  impression  they  produced 
upon  him,  as  he  sat  looking  at  her  and  telling  of  the 
mighty  wave  of  wrath  that  had  surged  up  about  that 
handful  of  balsam  blossoms. 

"It  is  a  most  singular  cause  of  division,  and  one 
I  could  almost  laugh  at,  except  for  the  very  real  pas- 
sions of  anger  and  of  hatred  it  has  aroused,"  he  said 
in  conclusion. 

"  One  often  sees  terrible  bursts  of  anger  and 
fury  in  immature  minds,"  observed  Madame  in 
the  preamble  of  her  answer.  "  Young  children 
and  people  of  weak  intellect  frequently  exhibit 
the  most  pitiable  extremes  of  fury  over  trifling 
causes." 

Ezra  was  not  quite  certain  to  what  she  referred. 
If  to  Olive,  then  she  was  mistaken  in  considering  her 
a  child.  He  recalled  very  vividly  what  she  had  said 
about  communism  in  what  one  loves,  and  he  was  not 
at  all  prepared  to  admit  that  her  arguments  were  those  ^ 
of  a  person  of  weak  intellect. 

"  I  don't  think  this  is  a  case  for  '  criticism-cure ' 
in  the  Assembly,  do  you?  "  she  said. 

"  No,  certainly  not,"  replied  Ezra,  who  was  keenly 
alive  to  the  possibility  of  his  wife's  blazing  up  into  un- 


PRACTICAL  COMMUNISM.  ng 

compromising  criticism  herself,  if  they  attempted  to 
apply  the  famous  "  cure ''  upon  her. 

"  Criticism-cure  "  existed  rather  in  theory  than  in 
practice  in  Perfection  City,  but  it  was  held  that  if  a 
brother  or  a  sister  should  be  guilty  of  any  offence 
against  the  common  weal,  it  would  be  an  edifying 
experience  to  summon  him  or  her  to  the  Assembly, 
and  let  all  the  members  tell  him  or  her  exactly  what 
each  one  thought  of  the  conduct  in  question.  In 
theory  this  was  supposed  to  work  admirably,  and  to 
be  a  weapon  capable  of  reducing  to  reason  the  most 
refractory  member  of  the  Community,  but  when  Ezra 
remembered  it  and  imagined  for  a  moment  its  possible 
effects  on  Olive,  he  foresaw  a  whole  train  of  deplor- 
able results.  Suppose  she  defended  herself,  she  could 
say  sharp  rankling  things  with  a  surprising  amount 
of  unanswerable  truth  in  them,  or  suppose  she  didn't 
defend  herself,  but  took  the  scolding  silently.  Her 
eyes  would  get  bigger  and  bigger  with  tears  which 
would  roll  over  her  cheeks,  and  her  sweet  little  chin 
would  quiver,  and  she  would  look  imploringly  at  him. 
He  couldn't  stand  that,  he  knew,  but  would  rush  up 
and  take  her  in  his  arms,  and  carry  her  off  out  from 
the  midst  of  the  carping,  criticising  brethren,  and  he 
would  call  her  sweet  pet  and  darling,  and  say  she  was 
right  and  they  were  horrid  brutes  to  scold  her,  and 
he  would  be  very  angry  and  would  be  quite  capable 
of  knocking  Brother  Wright  down,  if  he,  as  was  likely, 
had  been  savage  with  the  little  pet.    No,  criticism-cure 


120  PERFECTION  CITY. 

should  not  be  applied  to  Olive.  And  Ezra,  arguing 
thence  into  wider  fields,  began  to  feel  some  doubts  as 
to  the  value  of  that  remarkable  weapon  as  a  means 
of  eradicating  the  naturally  evil  tendencies  of  the  hu- 
man heart.  Theories  which  had  seemed  sound  and 
complete  in  the  abstract  had  a  curious  habit  of  ring- 
ing false  when  he  imagined  himself  as  applying  them 
to  Olive.  It  was  very  curious,  but  they  did  not  seem 
to  fit  her,  or  was  it  possible  that  the  theories  them- 
selves were  wrong?  No,  he  dismissed  that  thought  as 
entailing  too  much  mental  demolition  and  carting  away 
of  rubbish.  Of  one  thing  only  was  he  sure,  the  "  criti- 
cism-cure "  was  not  to  be  tried  on  his  little  wife. 

"  I  think  it  is  a  case  for  petting  rather  than  for 
punishing,"  remarked  Madame,  after  an  interval  dur- 
ing which  they  had  both  been  severally  following  out 
the  ramifications  of  their  own  reflections. 

Ezra  jumper  at  this  idea.  He  was  of  that  opinion 
too,  as  he  impartially  observed.  Indeed  he  was  always 
of  opinion  that  Olive  required  petting. 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  understand  the  case,"  continued 
Madame.  "  The  flowers  were  a  toy,  doubly  prized  now 
they  are  gone.  What  is  wanted  is  to  provide  a  new 
and  more  attractive  toy,  so  that  the  baby-mind  will 
lightly  forget  the  old  grief." 

Ezra  did  not  quite  like  this  way  of  referring  to 
Olive,  but  he  had  called  in  Madame's  aid,  and  he  had 
no  choice  but  to  listen  to  the  physician's  diagnosis 
and  prescription  regarding  the  case  in  question.    Ma- 


PRACTICAL  COMMUNISM.  121 

dame  meanwhile  looked  at  him  half  pityingly,  having 
ajDparently  overcome  her  eyes'  desire  to  avoid  his 
glance. 

"  Poor  Ezra!  "  she  said  softly.  "  You  are  mated 
to  a  child,  petulant,  wilful,  hard  to  manage,  and  very 
bewitching.  You  will  find  that  you  cannot  in  this 
ease  work  by  the  light  of  pure  reason.  You  must 
bring  yourself  down  to  her  level  and  try  to  see  with 
her  eyes,  to  take  delight  in  the  petty  trifles  that  interest 
her.  'Tis  weary  work!  The  task  of  Sisyphus  was  none 
the  less  severe  because  it  produced  no  tangible  good." 

She  was  silent,  and  Ezra  began  to  repent  that  he 
had  sought  counsel  from  so  exalted  a  source,  since  it 
was  delivered  to  him  with  such  a  liberal  seasoning  of 
the  bitter  salt  of  implied  reproof. 

"  I  think  that  I  can  apply  a  remedy  in  this  in- 
stance," resumed  Madame.  "  I  know  a  woman's  mind 
as  well  as  most  people,  and  I  know  too  the  vain  weak- 
nesses of  a  silly  girl — perhaps  the  knowledge  comes 
from  a  memory,  or  perhaps  from  a  shattered  hope, 
wiio  knows?  At  all  events,  dear  friend  and  brother, 
it  will  serve  you  now." 

She  left  him  to  go  into  the  small  inner  apartment 
which  was  her  bedroom,  and  came  out  again  in  a  few 
moments  carrying  a  small  gold  bracelet  of  curious 
workmanship,  an  Oriental  trinket. 

"  Here  is  a  little  trifle  I  happen  to  have  by  me. 
Do  you  think  this  toy  would  dry  the  little  one's 
tears?  " 


122  PERFECTION  CITY. 

She  handed  the  bracelet  to  Ezra,  who,  though  ig- 
norant enough  on  such  matters,  did  not  fail  to  recog- 
nise the  flash  of  diamonds  in  the  jewel. 

"  This  is  a  very  valuable  piece  of  jewellery,"  he 
said.     "  You  must  not  give  it  away." 

"  I  don't  value  such  things  except  for  the  power 
of  making  someone  happy,"  replied  Madame.  "  Take 
it,  dear  friend,  and  think  that  I  speak  truly  when  I 
say  I  would  gladly  give  all  I  possess  to  ease  your  mind 
of  trouble  and  make  your  path  in  life  a  pleasant  one. 
And  the  child-wife  may  like  it.  Now,  go  to  her.  Good- 
night!   You  look  tired  and  harassed." 

She  gently  put  her  hand  upon  his  forehead  as  if 
to  smooth  out  wrinkles,  and  left  the  room. 

As  Ezra  walked  home  with  the  diamond  bracelet 
in  his  pocket,  he  seemed  to  feel  her  cool  soft  touch 
still,  and  the  thought  came  into  his  mind  that  Olive 
never  petted  him.  No,  it  was  he  who  always  petted 
her.  Well,  she  was  very  sweet  and  pretty,  and  he 
hoped  the  bracelet  would  comfort  her. 

There  was  no  doubt  about  that.  Olive  danced 
for  joy  when  she  saw  the  trinket.  She  put  it  on  her 
smooth  little  wrist  and  flashed  it  about  in  the  sun- 
shine. Her  eyes  rivalled  the  diamonds  for  bright- 
ness. 

"Do  you  like  it,  Ollie?" 

"  Like  it!  Why,  it's  too  lovely  for  anything,  and 
Madame  is  just  a  darling,  and  she  is  kind.  Just  fancy 
giving  me  a  diamond  bracelet!    A  thing  I  never  dreamt 


PRACTICAL  COMMUNISM.  123 

of  ever  owning.  And  how  shall  I  ever  thank 
her?" 

Olive  was  skipping  with  joy.  Suddenly  she  stopped 
short. 

"Ezra,  is  this  mine,  or  is  it  a  community-brace- 
let?" • 

"It  is  yours,  child." 

"  Mary  Winkle  can't  come  and  take  it  away  for  the 
good  of  my  soul,  can  she?  " 

"  No,  certainly  not.  We  are  allowed  to  hold 
private  property  in  such  personal  trifles,  as  you 
know  quite  well.  Besides,  Sister  Mary  would 
not  wish  to  take  from  you  what  you  particularly 
prized." 

"  Oh,  of  that  I  am  not  at  all  so  sure.  If  your 
principles  allowed  it,  I  would  not  give  much  for  Sister 
Mary's  self-restraint  in  the  matter.  She  might  want 
the  bracelet  for  herself  or  for  Willette,  for  what  I 
know.  I  shall  tell  her  the  bracelet  is  mine  even  by 
community-law." 

Olive  began  to  skip  again. 

"  You  are  an  intractable  little  mortal,  for  all  you 
look  so  soft  and  yielding,"  said  Ezra.  He  could  not 
help  smiling  at  her  pretty  kittenish  ways,  but  he  was 
filled  with  a  sort  of  amazement  to  perceive  how  im- 
possible it  was  to  change  the  trend  of  her  mind.  Had 
she  been  an  angular  woman,  all  bones,  like  Mary  Win- 
kle, it  would  not  have  seemed  so  strange.  Olive 
brought  her  frollicking  to  a  conclusion  and  looked 
9 


124  PERFECTION  CITY. 

wisely  at  her  husband,  shaking  her  pretty  little  head 
at  him. 

"  No,  no,  Ezra.  It  is  not  that,  but  you  are  trying 
to  stuff  me  into  a  wrong-shaped  mould,  and  I  don't 
fit.  As  if  any  mortal  woman  ever  could  care  for  a 
community-bracelet! " 

She  danced  away  to  put  her  treasure  in  some  safe 
place,  and  Ezra  went  off  to  his  work,  wondering  in 
his  own  mind  if  there  was  something  radically  antago- 
nistic to  communism  in  the  female  nature.  If  there 
was  any  such  fundamental  incompatibility  of  tempera- 
ment, then  farewell  to  all  ideas  of  a  successful  issue 
to  their  experiment.  Absolute  equality  between  men 
and  women  in  position,  power,  and  influence  was  the 
key-note  of  their  theories,  but  what  would  become  of 
these  theories  if  it  should  appear  that  the  female  mind 
refused  to  accept  the  first  and  greatest  postulate  upon 
which  they  were  all  founded? 


CHAPTEE   XL 

A  CHANCE  MEETING. 

The  spring  whence  the  Westons  drew  their  water 
was  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  house  across 
an  angle  of  the  corn  field.  A  little  foot-path  wind- 
ing in  and  out  among  the  hills  of  corn  led  to  it.  As 
the  corn  grew,  this  path  changed  in  character  and  be- 
came at  length  a  track  through  a  miniature  forest. 
The  corn  grew  to  about  eight  feet  in  height,  and  of 
course  the  first  to  be  covered  was  little  Olive,  with  her 
brief  five  feet  two  inches,  but  by  the  end  of  July  it 
had  covered  them  all.  Then  it  became  Olive's  great- 
est delight  to  go  down  through  that  forest  where  the 
corn  shook  in  the  breeze.  The  satin-smooth  stalks 
coming  up  like  bamboos,  and  the  broad  fibrous  rib- 
bons of  leaves,  were  a  constant  pleasure.  But  great- 
est joy  of  all  was  to  watch  the  coming  of  the  silk. 
When  the  young  ears  of  grain  were  forming  they 
threw  off  great  skeins  of  exquisite  silken  threads, 
changing  through  every  tint  from  palest  green  to  rich 
dark  crimson.  These  bunches  of  silk  were  like  soft 
plumes  falling  from  the  crest  of  the  husk  that  held 

125 


126  PERFECTION  CITY. 

the  ears,  and  were  most  tempting  to  twist  through 
idle  fingers.  A  forest  of  tall-growing  prairie  corn 
is  just  the  place  for  fairies,  only  alas!  the  wee  folk 
had  departed  this  life  long  before  ever  Olive  went 
to  live  at  Perfection  City.  So  charmed  was  she  with 
this  dwarf  forest,  which  afforded  the  onlv  shade  to  be 
enjoyed  on  that  glaring  prairie,  that  during  the  sum- 
mer she  always  went  to  the  spring  for  an  extra  pail 
of  fresh  water  every  afternoon  before  supper-time, 
as  this  errand  gave  her  an  excuse  for  loitering  among 
the  corn  stalks  and  amusing  herself  with  her  own 
playful  fancies. 

Diana  of  course  accompanied  her  young  mistress 
upon  these  walks  to  the  spring,  for  the  puppy  was 
attached  to  her  by  bonds  of  firmest  canine  affection, 
while  Olive,  on  her  side,  was  never  tired  of  laughing 
at  Diana's  ridiculous  freaks,  although  they  sometimes 
caused  her  considerable  trouble. 

Take  an  example. 

A  day  so  hot  and  scorching  that  words  fail  to  con- 
vey any  idea  of  it,  and  Olive  in  a  great  fuss,  for  she 
was  behindhand  with  her  work.  At  four  o'clock,  the 
very  most  blistering  hour  of  the  whole  twenty-four, 
she  set  off  hastily  for  the  spring  to  fetch  the  fresh 
water,  and  with  her  Diana,  her  tongue  lolling  out 
half  a  hand's  breath.  Knowing  the  object  of  the  ex- 
pedition, the  puppy  took  the  path  through  the  corn, 
and  Olive  sweltered  after  her.  It  seemed  as  if  the 
shelter  of  the  corn  was  powerless  against  the  slanting 


A  CHANCE  MEETING.  127 

shafts  of  sunlight  that  danced  and  chequered  between 
the  broad  hanging  leaves,  while  the  very  air  seemed 
endowed  with  such  a  load  of  heat  as  to  press  down 
with  more  than  the  allotted  weight  upon  Olive's  head. 
She  climbed  over  the  fence  and  walked  across  the 
grass  to  where  the  spring  started  from  under  a  tiny 
overhanging  ledge  of  limestone  rock.  It  was  an  ex- 
cellent spring  with  the  best  of  water,  and  would  have 
been  made  into  the  holiest  of  wells  by  a  spreading 
tree  or  a  shady  thorn-bush  near  it.  There  was,  how- 
ever, nothing  of  this  sort,  but  only  a  clear  pool  of 
water  some  two  feet  across  and  about  a  foot  deep, 
just  enough,  in  fact,  to  enable  one  to  get  a  good  dip 
with  the  bucket.  As  Olive,  hot  and  tired,  hurried  to 
this  little  pool  of  water,  she  beheld  the  accomplished 
Diana  sitting  in  the  middle  of  it,  cooling  herself  and 
slobbering  water  up  and  down  over  her  nose  in  su- 
preme bliss.  Poor  Olive!  She  did  not  know  whether 
to  laugh  or  to  cry,  but  eventually  decided  upon  the 
first-named  course.  Then  she  sat. down  beside  Diana 
and  paddled  her  feet  in  the  water,  after  which  refresh- 
ment she  returned  home  with  her  water-pail  empty. 
The  spring  had  an  undisturbed  night  in  which  to 
renew  its  freshness,  and  in  the  future  Olive  kept  her 
eye  on  Diana  when  they  went  together  for  water. 
The  dog  always  wanted  to  go  first,  but  Olive  kept  her 
severely  to  heel  until  the  water  was  obtained,  after 
which  Diana  was  free  to  indulge  in  what  diversions 
she  pleased. 


128  PERFECTION  CITY. 

One  day  as  Olive  emerged  from  the  pathway 
through  the  corn,  her  heart  gave  a  great  bound  of 
alarm  as  she  saw  a  man  standing  beside  the  spring, 
holding  his  horse's  bridle.  He  was  a  tall  man  in  a 
red  shirt  and  large-brimmed  hat.  He  carried  a  re- 
volver at  his  belt,  but  it  was  not  that  which  frightened 
Olive,  she  was  well  accustomed  to  seeing  armed  men. 
On  catching  sight  of  her  the  stranger  took  off  his  hat 
with  a  sweeping  bow,  and  coming  forward  greeted  her 
with  the  greatest  eagerness. 

"  This  is  indeed  a.  delightful  meeting,  Mrs.  Wes- 
ton. Quite  idyllic,  if  I  may  say  so.  And  are  you  com- 
ing to  fetch  water?  It  is  a  subject  for  a  poem,  only  I 
am  not  a  poet.  I  can  feel  all  the  beauty  of  it,  but 
must  be  dumb.  You'll  let  me  carry  back  your  pail 
for  you,  won't  you?  It  is  too  heavy  for  those  wee 
hands." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Cotterell.  I  can  quite  easily 
carry  my  pail.  I  do  it  every  day,"  said  Olive  speak- 
ing with  much  embarrassment. 

"  Mr.  Cotterell! "  he  repeated  with  infinite  sadness 
in  manner,  and  with  a  look  of  much  meaning  in  his 
bold  blue  eyes.  "  You  call  me  Mr.  Cotterell,  then  I 
am  no  longer  Mr.  Perseus,  and  my  sweet  romance  is 
shattered  forever  !" 

"I  know  now  that  you  are  Mr.  Cotterell,"  said 
Olive,  in  keen  distress. 

"  And  knowing  that,  you  are  disillusioned  and  have 
lost  faith  in  me,  and  you  will  not  even  let  me  carry 


A  CHANCE  MEETING.  129 

your  pail  of  water  for  you/'  said  he,  sadly,  in  a  way 
which  cut  Olive  to  the  heart,  "  yet  I  am  the  same  man 
I  was.    To  you  at  least  I  have  never  changed." 

"  I  know  you  are  very  kind,"  said  Olive,  "  but  if 
you  please  I'd  rather  you  didn't  carry  the  pail  for 
me." 

She  was  dreadfully  sorry  to  say  anything  to  hurt 
his  feelings,  but  she  remembered  her  promise,  and 
she  must  make  him  understand  here  and  now  that 
their  acquaintance  was  to  cease.  She  wanted  to  do 
it  as  kindly  as  she  could,  but  she  must  do  it  at  once. 

Cotterell  was  not  slow  to  read  her  thoughts,  in- 
deed her  distress  was  too  real  and  undisguised  for  him 
to  fail  to  understand. 

"  Is  this  an  order  of  dismissal,  Mrs.  Weston  ?  Am 
I  not  to  come  to  see  you  any  more  ?  "  he  asked  abrupt- 
ly, with  a  look  of  pain  in  his  face. 

Olive  glancing  up  saw  the  pain  and  felt  sorrier 
than  ever,  but  she  went  bravely  forward. 

"  I  am  deeply  pained,  Mr.  Cotterell,  but  I  must 
ask  you  not  to  come  to  see  me;  my  husband  does  not 
want  you  to,"  she  said,  unable  in  her  distress  to  find 
any  words  which  would  convey  her  meaning  unmis- 
takably, and  yet  not  sound  too  unkind. 

"Your  husband  has  forbidden  you  to  see  me?" 
said  Cotterell,  biting  his  yellow  moustache  savagely. 

"  Yes,"  said  Olive  simply. 

"  Your  husband's  sentiments  would  do  credit  to 
a  dog  in  the  manger,  Mrs.  W^eston,  but  are  not  what 


130  .  PERFECTION  CITY. 

one  exactly  looks  for  from  a  professing  communist, 
who  poses  as  a  shining  light  for  his  poor  fellow-crea- 
tures still  groping  in  the  darkness  of  their  ignorance." 

"  He  says  you  are  a  bad  man,  Mr.  Cotterell," 
said  Olive  with  a  view  to  defending  her  husband  and 
perhaps  finding  out  the  facts  of  the  case  about  her 
mysterious  friend,  in  whose  personality  she  felt  a  great 
interest. 

"  I  don't  pretend  to  be  a  good  man,  Heaven  knows! 
but  I'm  a  poor  lonely  devil  living  quite  by  myself,  and 
your  husband,  with  all  that  the  world  can  give  in 
the  way  of  happiness,  grudges  me  the  brief  pleasure 
of  talking  for  half  an  hour  with  a  good  woman.  That's 
not  the  way  to  make  me  a  better  man,  Mrs.  Weston, 
and  God  knows  I  need  all  the  help  I  can  get." 

"  I'm  so  sorry,"  faltered  Olive  in  ready  sympathy, 
and  the  tears  welled  up  into  her  tender  black  eyes. 

"  You  sweet  pitying  angel,"  said  Mr.  Cotterell, 
coming  nearer  and  speaking  very  gently.  "  Your  in- 
fluence would  save  me  if  anything  could." 

"  Oh,  you  mustn't  talk  like  that,"  said  Olive,  with 
a  catch  in  her  voice.  "  And  you  will  be  a  good  man, 
won't  you?  " 

He  bent  his  handsome  face  low,  and  taking  her 
hand  implanted  a  kiss  upon  it  with  a  grace  that  might 
have  charmed  a  duchess. 

"  A  woman  can  make  or  mar  a  man's  life,"  said 
he.  ^^  Happy  are  they  who  draw  the  prizes.  Good- 
bye! " 


A  CHANCE  MEETING.  131 

He  sprang  upon  his  horse  and  galloped  away. 
Olive  stood  watching  him,  her  eyes  swimming  in  tears, 
she  scarcely  knew  why,  only  he  seemed  so  sad  and 
so  handsome.  Ezra  was  nnkind  to  say  she  must 
never  see  him  any  more  and  try  to  make  his  life 
less  sad  and  wicked,  and  she  was  so  sorry  to 
think  that  she  would  never  have  any  more  talks 
with  him. 

At  this  moment  a  low  growl  from  Diana  made 
Olive  turn  round  to  encounter  the  clear  cool  gaze  of 
Madame  Morozoff-Smith. 

"  I  followed  you  down  here,"  she  said.  "  Napoleon 
Pompey  told  me  that  you  were  most  likely  gone  to 
the  spring." 

"Have  you  been  here  long?"  asked  Olive,  blush- 
ing in  her  surprise  and  confusion.  "  I  only  came  for 
a  pail  of  fresh  water." 

"No,  I  just  saw  Mr.  Cotterell  say  good-bye  and 
ride  off,"  observed  Madame  gently.  "  Do  you  see  him 
often?    He  hasn't  a  good  reputation." 

"I  don't  believe  he  is  as  bad  as  people  say,  I  am 
very  sorry  for  him  living  alone." 

"  He  need  not  have  been  alone  only  that  he  chose 
it,  indeed  it  ought  to  have  been  quite  otherwise,  if 
report  goes  true." 

"  We  ought  to  be  the  last  persons  on  earth  to 
credit  reports,"  said  Olive  hotly.  "  I  am  sure  there 
is  a  nice  crop  of  them  about  us  and  our  life  here  at 
Perfection  City,  if  it  comes  to  that." 


132  PERFECTION  CITY. 

"  True,  I  daresay  there  are/'  said  Madame.  ^'  One 
should  be  charitable." 

Olive  was  evidently  ill  at  ease,  and  Madame  draw- 
ing from  a  totally  different  experience  of  life  her  own 
conclusions,  became  convinced  that  Ezra's  wife  was 
carr3'ing  on  a  secret  acquaintanceship  with  a  man  of 
whom  he  thought  very  ill. 

Madame's  position  as  leader  at  Perfection  City 
gave  her  many  rights  and  imposed  certain  duties.  She 
considered  that  of  private  admonition  as  one  of  them. 
She  did  not  speak  for  some  moments,  and  the  two 
walked  along  in  silence.  Madame  w^as  debating  in  her 
own  mind  whether  she  should  speak  to  Olive  and  en- 
deavour to  turn  her  from  the  dangerous  path  towards 
which  she  seemed  to  be  directing  her  steps;  or  wheth- 
er she  should  keep  silence  and  let  her  destiny  be  ac- 
complished. She  reflected  that  if  she  spoke  to  Olive, 
that  rather  high-spirited  young  woman  would  prob- 
ably resent  her  interference,  and  might  possibly  com- 
plain to  Ezra,  with  the  result  of  estranging  him  from 
herself.  On  the  other  hand,  if  she  left  the  silly  wife 
to  go  her  foolish  way,  she  would  break  her  husband's 
heart.  Madame's  well-shaped  lips  curled  with  a  smile 
of  contempt  for  herself  as  these  thoughts  passed  rap- 
idly through  her  brain.  What  a  fool  she  was  to  stir 
in  the  matter!  Let  the  giddy  girl  follow  her  own  im- 
pulses and  then — No,  no!  She  would  be  true  to  her 
best  self,  she  would  put  forth  a  hand  and  draw  back 
the  blind  fool  from  the  precipice  that  lay  before  her. 


A  CHANCE  MEETING.  133 

She  spoke  therefore  to  Olive  in  that  soft  quiet 
voice  of  hers  that  seemed  to  have  more  power  of  ar- 
resting the  attention  and  holding  it  than  the  roar  of 
an  avalanche. 

"I  think  you  are,  perhaps,  not  acquainted  with 
Mr.  CotterelFs  character,"  said  she.  "  I  am  sure  you 
would  not  wish  to  associate  with  a  bad  man." 

"Why  do  you  think  he  is  a  bad  man?  Do  you 
know  him?  " 

"  No,  I  don't  know  him,  but  I  am  sure  I  am  right 
in  saying  that  he  is  a  man  of  loose  morals,"  said  Ma- 
dame. 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  said  Olive. 

"Why  not?     How  can  you  know?" 

"  Because  I  have  talked  with  him  a  great  deal, 
and  he  speaks  like  a  man  with  high  aspirations,  and 
not  at  all  like  the  bad  man  you  say  he  is." 

"  But  what  can  you  know  of  a  man's  real  char- 
acter from  a  chance  word  or  two  as  you  run  across 
him  in  an  afternoon's  stroll?"  observed  Madame. 

"  I  don't  judge  from  a  chance  word,  I  have  had 
long  talks  with  him." 

"Indeed!  and  where?  Do  you  meet  him  here  at 
the  spring  then,  so  often?" 

"  I  never  met  him  at  the  spring  before,  but  I  used 
to  meet  him  pretty  often,  when  I  was  out  cattle-hunt- 
ing and  he  would  generally  accompany  me  for  a  bit. 
Sometimes  too,  he  used  to  pass  our  house  on  his  way 
cattle-hunting,  and  then  he  would  look  in  and  water 


134  PERFECTION  CITY. 

his  horse  and  stop  to  talk  to  me  for  a  time/'  said  Olive 
in  explanation. 

"Eeally!"  said  Madame  looking  keenly  at  her 
companion,  "and  did  Ezra  know  of  these  visits?" 

"  Ezra  said  he  wasn't  to  come  any  more,  and  I 
told  Mr.  Cotterell  so  to-day." 

"  Oh!  and  what  did  he  say?  " 

"  He  called  Ezra  a  dog  in  the  manger,  and  I  do 
think  Ezra  oughtn't  to  be  so  harsh  about  Mr.  Cot- 
terell. He  would  like  to  be  a  better  man,  I  know,  if  he 
had  any  chance,  and  people  were  kind  to  him." 

"  Did  he  intimate  that  you  could  influence  him 
towards  the  better  way?" 

"  I  don't  see  why  I  can't  try  to  use  my  influence 
in  trying  to  make  my  fellow-creatures  happier  and 
better.  You  and  Ezra  are  always  talking  about 
doing  good  that  way.  Why  do  you  want  to  stop 
me  the  moment  I  see  a  chance  of  doing  a  little 
good?  " 

"  Because  you  would  only  do  harm." 

"  No,  I  shouldn't.  A  woman  has  great  influence 
over  a  man.     He  said  so  himself." 

"  Mr.  Cotterell  said  so  ?  "  inquired  Madame. 

"  Yes." 

"  It  is  a  very  dangerous  thing  for  a  young  woman 
to  attempt  to  influence  men  of  that  sort." 

"  You  don't  know  what  sort  he  is,  nor  anything 
about  him.  You  are  only  following  reports.  And 
how  can  you  talk  about  the  danger  of  influencing 


A  CHANCE  MEETING.  I35 

men?  That  is  just  what  you  are  always  doing  your- 
self." 

"  With  me  it  is  quite  different/'  said  Madame 
hastily. 

"  That  is  what  everybody  says  to  me  whenever 
I  want  to  do  what  other  people  find  it  right  to  do.  I 
hate  being  treated  like  a  baby." 

"  You  are  very  young  and  very  pretty,  child,  and 
that  makes  it  all  the  more  necessary  for  your  friends 
to  guard  you  against  dangers  which  you  don't  per- 
ceive as  clearly  as  they  do." 

"  I  hate  being  young  and — well — pretty,  if  it's  al- 
ways going  to  make  me  be  treated  like  that,"  said 
Olive  angrily. 

"Like  what?" 

"  Like  a  naughty  child.  That's  what  Ezra  does, 
and  he  goes  to  you  to  ask  what  he  should  do  to  me, 
you  know  he  does."  She  was  beginning  to  cry,  just 
like  a  naughty  child. 

Madame  smiled  contemptuously  as  she  glanced  at 
her  companion.  "  What  could  have  possessed  that 
quiet  reserved  Ezra  to  marry  such  a  feather-headed 
vain  little  puss?"  she  thought  bitterly. 

Olive  dried  her  eyes  angrily,  she  saw  the  contempt 
expressed  by  Madame's  curling  lips,  and  her  pride 
was  thoroughly  aroused. 

"  I  want  to  know  why  things  are  different  as  soon 
as  they  apply  to  me?  "  she  asked  with  doubtful  gram- 
mar but  unmistakable  import.     "  It  isn't  this  once 


136  PERFECTION  CITY. 

only,  but  it  is  always  so.  Personal  liberty  is  the  cor- 
ner-stone of  Perfection  City,  that  is  what  you  are 
here  for,  to  enjoy  liberty  and  protest  against  things. 
Mary  Winkle  won't  take  her  husband's  name,  and 
dresses  like  a  fright,  and  nobody  minds.  She's  free. 
But  as  soon  as  I  try  a  little  flight  of  my  own,  that 
doesn't  hurt  anybody,  I'm  to  be  popped  into  a  cage, 
and  you  and  Ezra  come  and  shut  the  door  on  me. 
I  met  this  man  by  chance  and  liked  talking  to  him. 
He  is  well-mannered  and  well  educated,  and  likes  the 
same  books  as  I  do,  and  has  travelled  and  could  tell 
me  heaps  and  heaps  of  interesting  things.  He  wasn't 
forever  talking  in  the  same  little  muddling  circle,  and 
wasn't  always  full  of  himself.  He  tried  to  interest 
me.  You  are  an  educated  woman,  Madame,  and  you 
know  as  well  as  I  do  that,  except  for  you  and  Ezra, 
there  is  not  an  educated  person  in  Perfection  City, 
nor  one  who  has  the  same  tastes  as  I  have.  Mr.  Cot- 
terell  used  to  come  and  talk  to  me,  and  I  liked  it; 
then  Ezra  gets  very  angry,  says  he  is  a  bad  man,  and 
forbids  my  seeing  him.  He  forbids  me,  mind  you. 
Xot  a  bit  the  sort  of  language  you  would  expect  in 
Perfection  City,  but  I  believe  in  wifely  obedience  and 
I  obeyed  him.  I  told  Mr.  Cotterell  he  must  not  come 
to  see  me  any  more,  and  he  won't  do  so.  He  always 
showed  the  best  spirit  in  everything  he  said,  and  I 
won't  believe  he  is  so  very  wicked  just  on  mere  re- 
port. We  once  had  a  horse-thief  and  murderer  to  stay 
to  supper,  and  we  did  not  inquire  into  his  character 


A  CHANCE  MEETING.  I37 

before  we  asked  him  to  stop  and  rest  and  feed  his 
horse.  Mr.  Cotterell  said  my  influence  might  help 
him  to  be  a  better  man,  and  perhaps  it  might.  At 
all  events,  I  want  to  know  why  I  wasn't  to  try  to  in- 
fluence him,  and  I  want  to  know  why  Perfection  City 
ideas,  when  they  make  for  freedom,  are  not  applicable 
to  me,  but  have  to  be  all  turned  upside  down  when 
I  come  into  play?  Can  you,  Madame,  answer  me 
that?" 

Madame  was  considerably  dumbfoundered  by  this 
attack  delivered  so  unexpectedly  and  so  very  straight 
from  the  shoulder.  She  hastily  recast  her  idea  that 
Olive  was  a  silly  little  fool,  and  most  unaccountably 
found  herself  anxiously  seeking  about  for  means  of  de- 
fence. 

"  The  fact  of  the  matter  is,  you  are  too  pretty  to 
do  these  things,"  she  replied,  helplessly  telling  the 
truth  in  her  extremity. 

"  Can  Perfection  City  then  only  succeed  if  all  the 
women  are  ugly?  "  asked  Olive  scornfully.  "  You  had 
better  not  proclaim  that  fact,  or  you'll  have  all  the 
women  running  away." 

Madame  was  in  the  habit  of  being  worshipped  by 
men,  and  was  not  at  all  prepared  to  have  her  remarks 
ridiculed  by  a  slip  of  a  girl.  She  did  not  like  it,  and 
therefore  replied  with  some  asperity, 

"  You  are  really  too  silly.  Sister  Olive.  You  must 
surely  perceive  that  there  is  great  danger  in  your 
associating  with  Mr.  Cotterell  on  so  familiar  a  footing. 


138  PERFECTION  CITY. 

that,  in  short,  he  may  fall  in  love  with  you,  and  I 
presume  you  can  understand  the  danger  of  that." 

"  Precisely,  a  fresh  set  of  laws  must,  as  usual,  be 
applied  to  me,  and  not  those  which  govern  the  rest 
of  you,"  said  Olive  calmly. 

"  I  don't  understand  to  what  you  refer,"  said  Ma- 
dame looking  at  her  doubtfully. 

"  Mr.  Cotter  ell  knew  from  the  outset  that  I  was 
a  married  woman.  I  don't  see  the  alarmingness  of 
the  danger  that  he  might  fall  in  love  with  me,  simply 
because  we  talked  together.  The  idea  has  only  struck 
you  in  reference  to  me;  it  does  not  seem  to  have  done 
so  with  regard  to  the  similar  circumstances  of  you  and 
Ezra." 

Madame  turned  white  with  anger.  "  How  dare 
you  insult  me  by  such  an  insinuation?"  she  ex- 
claimed. 

"  I  didn't  dare  until  after  you  had  first  given  utter- 
ance to  the  insinuation  against  me,"  replied  Olive, 
with  provoking  calmness. 

Madame  turned  as  if  she  could  have  struck  her, 
but  she  controlled  herself  with  a  desperate  effort. 

"  It  seems  to  me,  Sister  Olive,  that  your  remarks 
are  very  ill-judged,"  she  said  in  a  voice  that  shook 
in  spite  of  her.  "I  have  no  wish  to  bandy  words 
with  you.  I  spoke  merely  out  of  a  desire  to  do  my 
duty,  and  to  save  you,  if  possible,  from  a  danger 
which  I  imagined  I  foresaw  more  clearly  than  you 
did.    I  see  that  your  words  were  prompted  by  quite 


A  CHANCE  MEETING.  139 

another  wish  than  to  seek  ad\dce  or  counsel  in  a  dijBS- 
cult  moment." 

"  I  sought  for  neither  advice  or  counsel,"  returned 
Olive.  "  I  simply  wanted  to  discover,  if  possible,  how 
to  fit  the  theories  of  Perfection  City,  which  I  know 
pretty  well  by  heart  now,  into  the  practice  as  applied 
to  me." 

Madame  looked  at  her  with  eyes  of  anger  and  even 
of  hate,  and  Olive,  conscious  of  having  been  almost 
more  successful  than  she  had  imagined  possible  in 
argument  with  so  distinguished  a  mind,  returned  the 
look  with  one  suggestive  of  triumph.  Alas  for  the 
perfect  harmony  of  Perfection  City! 

"  I  am  surprised,  I  will  not  say  pained,  because 
you  would  care  little  for  that,  but  I  am  surprised,  I 
repeat,  at  such  words  in  the  mouth  of  Ezra  Weston's 
wife.  He  must  have  been  strangely  mistaken  in  your 
character,  or  you  cannot  have  revealed  your  true  self 
to  him,  for  I  cannot  imagine  him  binding  himself  for 
life  to  a  mate  who  scorns  and  flouts  in  this  manner 
what  he  holds  so  dear.  You  are  mocking  the  princi- 
ples to  which  he  has  devoted  his  life.  You  are  too 
foolish  to  see  what  you  are  doing,  but  one  day  you 
will  be  punished,  and  then  perhaps  you  will  repent — 
when  it  will  be  too  late." 

Madame  turned  and  walked  rapidly  away,  leaving 
Olive  feeling  very  angry  and  very  much  frightened 
as  well. 

That  evening  Napoleon  Pompey  carried  a  note 
10 


140  PERFECTION  CITY. 

and  a  small  parcel  to  Madame,  who  guessed  pretty  well 
what  it  was.  The  note  was  brief,  it  contained  but 
these  words: 

"  I  thought  you  sent  the  bracelet  as  a  present, 
therefore  I  accepted  it  and  was  grateful:  now  I  know 
you  sent  it  as  a  reproof,  therefore  I  return  it." 


CHAPTER   XII. 


THE    PRAIRIE    FIRE. 


^The  summer  had  been  a  particularly  dry  one,  and 
since  the  beginning  of  July  not  a  drop  of  rain  had 
fallen.  The  water-melons  revelled  in  the  heat,  and 
Olive  revelled  in  the  water-melons:  for  by  a  blessed 
compensation  of  Nature  the  hotter  and  drier  the  land, 
the  cooler  and  juicier  the  water-melons  seem  to  be. 
The  water-melon  of  the  western  prairie  is  as  different 
from  the  pallid  green-fleshed  vegetable  which  masque- 
rades under  its  name  in  this  country,  as  the  full  moon 
of  the  heavens  is  superior  to  the  lime-light  article 
manufactured  for  use  on  the  stage.  The  real  prairie 
water-melon  is  an  enormous  affair,  being  about  as  large 
as  the  roll  of  rugs  without  which  fussy  gentlemen 
consider  it  impossible  to  travel.  The  skin  is  of  the 
darkest  green  and  as  hard  as  a  board,  a  most  unripe- 
looking  object  at  all  times.  Indeed  the  only  way  one 
can  find  out  the  condition  of  a  water-melon's  insides 
is  by  surgical  operation.  You  simply  cut  out  a  plug 
about  an  inch  square  from  the  top  side  of  the  melon, 
and  look  to  see  if  the  flesh  has  turned  crimson  at  the 

141 


142  PERFECTION  CITY. 

centre.  If  it  is  still  white  or  pale  pink  you  know  the 
psychological  moment,  when  the  truly  wise  will  eat 
the  melon,  has  not  yet  arrived.  Accordingly  you  put 
back  the  plug,  and  leave  the  sun  to  work  a  little  longer 
on  it,  at  a  temperature  of  a  hundred  and  twenty  or 
so.  Since  it  never  rains  at  the  melon  season  of  the 
year,  the  plug  does  not  do  any  harm  if  left  on  the  top 
side,  but  the  beginner  sometimes  leaves  it  on  the 
lower  side,  with  the  result  that  all  the  water  runs  away. 
It  is  a  curious  fact,  but  the  water  of  a  melon,  even 
of  one  picked  in  the  middle  of  a  scorching  hot  day, 
never  seems  tepid.  It  is  always  cool  and  refreshing, 
even  at  times  when  ordinary  water  tastes  unutterably 
mawkish  owing  to  the  excessive  heat.  The  crimson 
spongy  flesh,  specked  with  purple-black  seeds,  is  eaten 
in  moderation  or  in  immoderation  according  to  the 
taste  of  the  individual,  but  the  water  is  always  greedily 
drunk  up  by  everybody.  The  scorching  winds  of  the 
plains  seem  to  dry  one's  very  marrow,  arid  notliing  can 
exceed  the  thirst  of  a  man  who  is  obliged  to  be  out  all 
day  in  such  weather  and  to  work  hard  at  the  same  time. 
Animals,  too,  suffer  from  extreme  thirst,  and  after  a 
morning's  ploughing  when  the  farm  horses  are  brought 
up  to  water,  they  drink  and  drink  and  drink,  swelling 
visibly  under  one's  eye,  as  if  they  were  india-rubber 
horses  under  the  action  of  some  new  patent  inflator. 
They  are  never  stinted  in  their  drink  and  swallow 
bucketsful  before  attacking  their  corn. 
-But  to  return  to  our  water-melons. 


THE  PRAIRIE  FIRE.  I43 

Kapoleon  Pompey  used  to  bring  up  a  wheel- 
barrow full  from  the  melon  patch  each  morning  for 
the  day's  consumption.  He,  like  a  true  negro,  was 
inordinately  fond  of  melons,  or  ^^  millions "  as  he 
called  them,  and  would  have  sucked  them  all  day  long 
if  left  to  his  own  devices.  Whenever  he  had  to  go 
anywhere  in  the  waggon,  as  occasionally  happened, 
he  would  lay  in  a  store  of  "  millions,"  and  lay  himself 
beside  them,  and  suck  them,  just  as  if  he  were  a  black 
caterpillar  of  unlimited  capacity.  The  horses  mean- 
time, far  too  oppressed  with  the  heat  to  require  much 
attention,  would  plod  along  with  their  eyes  shut,  try- 
ing to  keep  out  the  glaring  light.  There  was  nothing 
to  stumble  over  or  fall  into,  so  the  driving  became 
of  the  most  elementary  pattern,  requiring  only  an 
occasional  rattle  of  the  reins  and  a  comment  or  two, 
such  as:  "  Yo',  Reb,  g'  'long  will  yer,  g'  out  o'  dat." 

Olive  during  this  period  found  the  heat  stifling, 
and  used  to  sit  out  of  doors  on  the  shady  side  of  the 
house,  until  the  terrible  wind  blew  up  from  the  Plains, 
when  she  would  flee  as  before  the  breath  of  a  volcano, 
and  shutting  herself  tight  up  in  her  room  with  closed 
doors  and  windows,  would  gasp  through  the  visitation 
as  best  she  might.  She  was  no  worse  off  than  anyone 
else,  and  the  nights  were  alwaj^s  cool  and  refreshing. 
That  was  an  unspeakable  blessing.  All  this  heat  dried 
up  the  thick  prairie  grass  until  it  was  like  a  vast  plain 
of  dry  hay  standing  erect. 

The  corn  crop  at  Perfection  City  had  turned  out 


144:  PERFECTION  CITY. 

exceptionally  good.  There  was  ample  for  all  the  needs 
of  the  Community  and  a  good  surplus  which  was  to 
be  sold  at  Mapleton  in  order  to  enable  them  to  buy 
some  farm-machinery  that  was  greatly  needed.  Con- 
sequently the  whole  Community  worked  hard  at  get- 
ting in  the  corn  so  as  to  be  early  in  the  market.  The 
heavy  ears  of  corn  with  their  twenty  rows  of  golden 
yellow  grains  were  stripped  off  the  tall  stalks  by  hand: 
a  most  limb-lacerating  job^,  for  the  "  shucks/'  or  cov- 
erings to  the  ear,  are  masses  of  fibrous  leaves  with  saw- 
like edges.  These  edges  have  the  power  of  cutting  an 
exposed  finger  in  a  most  painful  manner,  and  they  are 
by  no  means  loath  to  use  the  power. 

All  this  hurry  and  concentration  of  the  workers 
upon  the  corn-field  was  possible  only  if  every  other 
sort  of  work  was  neglected  for  the  moment.  It  seemed 
the  wisest  plan  to  hasten  off  with  their  harvest  in  spite 
of  the  risk,  and,  unused  as  they  were  to  prairie  life, 
yet  even  they  realized  that  there  was  some  risk  in  thus 
leaving  their  farms  unprotected.  Ezra  was  perfectly 
aware  of  it,  but  like  so  many  people  he  shut  his  eyes 
and  hoped  for  good  luck.  He  spoke  to  Olive  on  the 
subject. 

"  If  anyone  so  much  as  drops  a  lighted  match  on 
the  prairie  we  shall  be  lost,"  he  said. 

"  Why,  what  do  you  mean  ? "  asked  his  wife  in 
surprise.  She  was  still  so  new  to  the  prairie  that  she 
did  not  understand  to  what  he  referred.  They  hap- 
pened to  be  on  that  outside  landing  of  the  stairs  which 


THE  PRAIRIE  FIRE.  I45 

looked  out  over  the  wide  boundless  western  prairie. 
This  stairway  from  its  position  made  an  exceptionally 
good  place  from  which  to  take  a  survey  of  the  whole 
prospect. 

"  That  grass  is  like  tinder,  and  if  anybody  leaves 
a  coal  of  fire  burning  at  his  camping-place  or  drops 
his  pipe,  the  thing  will  catch  in  a  second,  and  if  there 
is  a  strong  west  wind  we  shall  see  about  as  bad  a  prairie 
fire  as  we  care  to." 

"Oh,  but  that's  dreadful!  What  shall  we  do?" 
said  Olive,  much  alarmed. 

"  As  soon  as  our  corn  is  sold  at  Mapleton,  we  shall 
plough  all  round  Perfection  City  and  back-fire,  if  we 
can  only  get  a  calm  day.  We  must  not  back-fire  in 
a  high  wind,  because  that  would  probably  start  a  prai- 
rie fire  and  just  cause  the  very  mischief  we  want  to 
guard  against.  It  would  take  fifty  people  to  keep  a 
line  of  fire  under  control  for  a  mile's  length  with  grass 
like  that  and  a  strong  wind."  So  spoke  Ezra,  critically 
scanning  the  horizon  for  any  sign  of  smoke  which 
might  betoken  danger.  He  was  very  uneasy,  and  the 
fierce  west  wind,  which  seemed  never  weary  of  blow- 
ing, made  him  all  the  more  anxious,  as  it  might  pre- 
vent them  guarding  themselves  by  running  the  usual 
belt  of  burnt  prairie  all  around  Perfection  City. 

It  was  not  a  light  job  to  get  a  safety  belt  of  about 
four  miles  long,  for  that  was  the  circumference  of  the 
portion  of  their  land  fenced  in,  and  it  was  an  impos- 
sible one  in  the  face  of  a  high  wind  with  their  small 


146  ^  PERFECTION  CITY. 

force — unless  indeed  they  did  as  selfish  individualists 
did,  namely  let  the  fire  go  and  burn  out  whom  it  liked 
and  what  it  liked  once  they  were  themselves  safe. 
The  Pioneers  refused  to  be  guilty  of  this  act  of  treach- 
ery to  the  common  weal  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  prai- 
rie. It  is  a  comparatively  easy  thing  to  keep  one  line 
of  fire  safe  and  so  protect  your  own  fields;  the  real 
difficulty  begins  when  you  want  to  stop  the  fire  from 
spreading  in  other  directions  as  well.  Most  of  the 
settlers  back-fired  their  own  land,  and  left  Providence 
or  the  Devil  to  see  to  the  result  as  regards  their  neigh- 
bours. The  Pioneers  had  naturally  a  higher  standard 
of  public  duty  than  this,  therefore  they  did  not  back- 
fire in  the  high  wind. 

The  corn  being  stripped  off  the  stalks,  Olive's 
fairy  forest  was  sadly  mutilated,  for  the  great  ears 
were  all  gone  and  many  of  the  streaming  leaves  were 
torn  away;  the  walk  to  the  spring,  therefore,  was  no 
longer  so  delightful  as  it  had  been  earlier  in  the  sum- 
mer. Still  she  and  Diana  used  to  go  there  pretty 
often,  especially  since  ISTapoleon  Pompey  was  always 
kept  busy  helping  in  the  field.  Coming  up  from  the 
spring  one  afternoon  just  before  sundown,  she  was 
amazed  to  see  her  husband  galloping  madly  along  the 
far  side  of  the  field  on  Queen  Katherine,  the  big  brown 
mare,  her  harness  banging  her  hot  flanks  at  every 
stride,  while  Napoleon  Pompey  on  Eebel  was  tearing 
after  him  waving  his  tattered  old  straw  hat.  Olive 
for  a  moment  or  two  stared  in  blank  amazement  at 


THE  PRAIRIE  FIRE.  147 

them,  and  then  began  to  run  towards  the  house  which 
appeared  to  be  their  destination  also.  Ezra  and  Na- 
poleon Pompey  with  frantic  gestures  seemed  to  invite 
her  attention  to  the  setting  sun,  now  sinking  to  rest 
like  a  shimmering  copper  ball.  She  looked,  but  saw 
nothing  except  the  molten  mass,  unless  it  were  a  faint 
blue  haze  on  the  horizon,  the  result,  as  she  supposed, 
of  the  intense  heat. 

When  Olive  reached  the  house  a  few  moments 
later,  it  was  to  see  her  husband  going  hurriedly  down 
the  road  to  the  bars  on  the  other  side  of  the  house. 
The  horses  were  hitched  to  the  plough  and  were  trot- 
ting fast,  while  Napoleon  Pompey  was  urging  them  on 
with  voice  and  whip.  The  plough,  unaccustomed  to 
such  speed,  was  jerking  from  side  to  side.  A  moment's 
halt  at  the  bars,  while  Napoleon  Pompey  threw  down 
the  rails,  and  Ezra  turning  round  put  both  hands  to 
his  mouth  and  shouted  "  Fire  "  in  a  long  re-echoing 
whoop.  He  wheeled  around  then  and  seizing  his 
plough-handles  set  off  at  a  hand-gallop,  bounding 
along  with  his  ungainly  implement. 

Now  Olive  understood  what  that  blue  haze  meant. 
It  was  a  prairie  fire  coming  down  on  them  from  the 
west  along  with  a  fierce  wind.  Oh  dear!  oh  dear! 
What  should  she  do  ?  There  must  be  something  women 
could  help  at,  in  such  a  moment,  if  she  only  knew 
what.  But  who  to  ask?  Everybody  was  far  away, 
and  the  dreadful  fire  began  to  show  up  now  that  the 
sun  was  no  longer  easting  such  bright  rays. 


148  PERFECTION  CITY. 

"  Come  'long,  git  yer  shingle/'  shouted  a  familiar 
voice  behind  her. 

"  Oh,  Willette,  is  that  you?  What  shall  I  do?  It's 
a  fire,  and  I  don't  know  what's  wanted." 

"  Nothin'  but  a  shingle  an'  a  box  o'  matches. 
Quick  now!  We'll  hev  ter  pike,  you  bet.  Pa  and  Ma 
is  out  firin'  a'ready  down  yonder,  'side  our  house." 

"  I  am  so  glad  you've  come,"  said  Olive  hurrying 
along  with  two  wooden  shingles  under  her  arm. 

The  shingles  were  merely  the  thin  wooden  "  slates  " 
with  which  the  houses  were  roofed.  When  thoroughly 
dried  they  are  admirably  adapted  for  spreading  a  fire 
from  house  to  house  in  a  street,  and  accordingly  they 
are  now  prohibited  by  law  in  most  towns  and  cities. 
On  the  prairie  they  were  used  in  emergencies  as  pad- 
dles to  keep  the  back-firing  within  limits. 

"  Yes,  Ma  said  she  'lowed  you  wouldn't  know  the 
fust  thing  ter  do,"  remarked  Willette  complacently. 
"  An'  Pa  said  he  reckoned  school  larnin'  in  the  East 
could  make  folks  more  like  nateral  born  fools  than 
anything  under  the  sun." 

Olive  was  very  little  obliged  to  the  Wright  and 
Winkle  spouses  for  their  opinion  of  her.  She  re- 
mained therefore  silent. 

They  soon  reached  the  furrows  that  were  being 
so  desperately  ploughed  by  Ezra  and  his  foam-covered 
horses.  The  swift  twilight  was  almost  upon  them, 
but  they  could  see  Wright  urging  his  horses  along 
the  south  side  of  the  land  nearest  his  house,  while 


THE  PRAIRIE  FIRE.  149 

away  across  at  the  east  side  of  Perfection  City  Brother 
Dummy  was  thundering  along  with  his  waggon  bring- 
ing up  his  plough  to  the  rescue,  and  that  completed 
all  the  horse-power  of  the  Community.  Little  tongues 
of  flame  here  and  there  along  the  furrows  denoted  that 
the  back-firing  had  begun  in  several  spots.  Mean- 
while the  sky  was  reddening  up  with  the  reflection 
of  the  on-coming  conflagration,  and  the  fierce  wind 
blew  ever  harder  directly  from  its  long  blood-red  line. 

"  Now  you  Jes'  set  afire  'long  hyar,  front  this  hyar 
furrow,"  said  Willette,  kneeling  down  with  her  matches 
and  starting  the  fire  as  she  spoke.  "Now  then,  yo' 
jes'  see  to  that,  an'  don't  yo'  let  that  ar  fire  hop  over 
behind  yer,  or  it'll  be  worse  nor  nothin'." 

"What  am  I  to  do?"  asked  Olive  trembling  with 
excitement  and  fear,  it  was  all  so  strange  and  alarm- 
ing. "  I  never  saw  a  fire  and.  don't  know  anything 
about  it,"  she  added. 

"  Jes'  paddle  it  out  with  yer  shingle,  ef  it  gits  over. 
There  ain't  no  sight  0'  larnin'  wanted  for  that,"  said 
Willette  in  scorn.  "  Mind  yer  ends,  and  look  after 
tongues  in  the  middle.  They'll  be  powerful  handy 
at  jumpin'  over  this  hyar  furrow,  and  you  mustn't  let 
the  fire  git  away  from  yer,  else  yo'll  be  clear  done  for. 
Keep  yer  eyes  behind  yer  and  min'  the  back  line,"  said 
Willette  walking  away. 

"Land  o'  liberty!  look  at  that!" 

Willette  made  one  bound  behind  Olive  and  com- 
menced furiously  beating  the  ground  with  her  wooden 


150  PERFECTION  CITY. 

paddle,  while  Olive,  bewildered,  turned  round  to  see 
that  she  had  indeed  let  the  fire  get  behind  her  even 
as  Willette  was  uttering  her  warning. 

"  We  'uns  would  ha'  been  clear  burtit  out  in  one 
grasshopper's  jump  on'y  I  was  there,"  said  Willette 
looking  critically  to  see  if  any  little  spark  of  fire  lin- 
gered in  the  tall  grass  which  could  by  any  chance  start 
into  life  again. 

"  Oh  I  can  never  manage  it!    What  shall  I  do?  " 

"  Be  spry  and — Look  at  that  again  now!  "  Willette 
sprang  to  a  new  place  and  beat  the  ground.  She  was 
back  again  in  an  instant,  here  there  and  every  where, 
with  the  activity  of  a  monkey,  beating  down  for  dear 
life,  whenever  the  fire  crossed  the  narrow  base-line 
of  the  up-turned  sod,  and  as  the  wind  was  high  it  was 
frequently  doing  this.  Constant  vigilance  was  re- 
quired, especially  as  Ezra  had  only  had  time  to  run 
a  few  furrows  with  the  plough,  instead  of  a  band  five 
or  six  feet  wide. 

"  Powerful  heavy  work  in  this  hyar  high  wind," 
said  the  child,  "  and  on'y  that  ar  furrow  to  start  from." 

Willette  was  in  her  element.  Not  an  inch  of  the 
line  escaped  her  lynx-eye,  and  all  the  while  she  kept 
giving  advice  to  Olive,  who  stood  in  awe  of  her  supe- 
rior practical  knowledge  in  this  emergency. 

"  Now  this  hyar  fire's  agoin'  to  spread  along,  an' 
yo'  jes'  got  ter  mind  this  end  by  yerself." 

She  darted  twenty  yards  away  and  paddled  out  a 
flame  and  came  back,  her  face  begrimed  with  smoke 


THE  PRAIRIE  FIRE.  151 

and  dirt,  so  that  she  looked  not  unlike  the  nigger 
whose  modes  of  speech  she  so  much  affected. 

"  You  jes'  take  off  that  ar  hat  and  them  big  skirts, 
else  you^ll  be  burnt  to  death  right  hyar/'  said  Willette 
surveying  Olive  with  considerable   disapproval. 

Willette's  hickory  trousers  and  shirt  were  exactly 
the  thing  for  a  prairie  fire  in  a  high  wind,  as  indeed 
they  were  for  most  of  the  occupations  that  fell  to  her 
lot.  What  with  the  constant  bounding  backwards  and 
forwards  over  the  flame,  Olive  indeed  thought  that 
she  had  better  accept  the  advice  and  slip  off  her  wide 
calico  skirt  which  was  forever  in  the  way  and  miglit 
easily  catch  fire.  She  put  it  along  with  her  hat  just 
at  the  top  of  the  slope  where  Weddell's  Gully  began, 
where  she  could  easily  get  them  next  day,  if  all  went 
well. 

It  was  night  now  and  would  have  been  quite  dark 
but  for  the  bright  glare  from  the  fire.  All  the  in- 
habitants of  the  Community  were  out  working  desper- 
ately. Olive  paddled  down  her  fire  and  kept  her  line 
bravely  for  a  couple  of  hours,  in  spite  of  choking 
smoke  and  clouds  of  dust  and  many  a  burn.  Willette 
was  far  away,  lost  in  the  darkness,  following  her  end 
of  the  fire,  and  only  became  visible  as  she  leaped  back- 
wards and  forwards  over  her  line  of  fire  like  some  asrile 
fiend  engaged  in  roasting  its  victims.  Olive  was  all 
alone.  She  felt  very  much  frightened,  for  she  did 
not  know  what  might  happen,  nor  what  in  any  new 
emergency  she  would  have  to  do.     She  wished  some- 


152  PERFECTION  CITY. 

body  would  come,  for  it  was  a  strange  experience  to  be- 
in  the  black  night  and  lurid  glare  all  alone  minding  a 
fire.  The  air  was  full  of  the  burnt  fluff  from  the  big 
fire,  and  the  roar  as  it  now  had  come  near  was  terrify- 
ing. True  the  worst  of  it  w^as  passing  to  the  south,  and 
their  land  was  now  pretty  well  guarded  on  all  sides. 
Suddenly  the  cheerful  black  face  of  Napoleon  Pom- 
pey  appeared  in  the  light  of  the  flame. 

"  Oh,  Pompey,  I'm  so  glad  you've  come.  Where 
is  everybody?"  said  Olive,  overjoyed  to  see  a  human 
being  once  more. 

"  Wal,  Mis'  Ollie,  I  on'y  jes'  take  ole  plough  to 
de  bars.  We'uns  rip  up  dat  furrow  golly  spry.  Done 
turn  de  bosses  loose." 

"Why,  the  poor  horses  will  be  burnt!"  exclaimed 
Olive  in  dismay. 

"  Dem  bosses,  dey  dre'f ul  cute  critters.  Dey  go 
off  slap  to  de  bottom  Ian'.  You  bet  bosses  knows 
mos'  as  well  nor  w^iite  folks  'bout  prairie  fires.  I 
come  min'  yo'  fire  fo'  yer.  Mis'  Ollie.  Ole  man  he 
done  tole  me." 

"  Very  well,  you  can  take  my  shingle  then.  There 
is  not  much  more,  I  suppose,  to  be  done  now,  only 
you  must  keep  both  edges  between  the  two  furrows 
here.  They  told  me  not  to  let  it  get  away  and  run 
down  into  the  Gully.     Do  you  understand  ?  " 

"  You  bet,"  replied  Napoleon  Pompey  who  knew 
far  better  than  Olive  could  tell  him  just  what  should 
be  done. 


THE  PRAIRIE  FIRE.  I53 

.  "  I  am  going  to  get  my  hat  and  skirt.  I  left  them 
near  the  corner  of  Weddell's  Gully.  I  think  I  will 
just  run  across  the  old  field  and  get  them:  it  will  be 
much  shorter  than  going  all  the  way  round  by  the 
furrows.  It  will  be  light  enough  to  see  yet  awhile  so 
I  can  follow  the  path  through  the  Gully." 

Olive  looked  at  the  fire  that  was  fast  roaring  its 
way  towards  the  south-east,  and  deciding  it  would 
easily  light  her  on  her  way  she  tripped  off  and  dis- 
appeared in  the  gloom  down  towards  the  Gully. 

In  a  few  minutes  Napoleon  Pompey  began  to  show 
signs  of  immense  excitement. 

*^  Golly  Ned!  I  never  seed  yonder.  Mis'  Ollie 
whar  yo'  be?  Come  back!  Come  back,  Mis'  Ollie! 
Golly!     Golly! " 

He  ran  violently  backwards  and  forwards  along 
his  line  of  fire,  which,  however,  he  dared  not  leave, 
exclaiming  "  Golly! "  and  "  Oh  Lordy! "  at  every 
step.  In  a  minute  or  two  he  ran  into  Ezra  who  was 
coming  along  to  fetch  Olive  home,  if  she  was  still 
there. 

"  Lordy!  dat  yo',  Mas'r  Ezra.  Yo'  go  right  'long 
down  dish  hyar  Gully.     Mis'  Ollie  she  down  dar." 

Ezra  was  dead  beat.  He  could  scarcely  drag  his 
limbs  along.  The  terrific  exertion  of  that  furious 
ploughing,  coming  at  the  end  of  a  long  and  hard  day's 
work,  had  almost  over-taxed  even  his  iron  frame. 

"  I  thought  I  would  find  her  here  on  my  way 
home,"  he  said  languidly.     "  We  are  pretty  safe  now. 


154  PERFECTION  CITY. 

Tell  her  to  come  back  with  the  others.  I'm  going 
home  to  get  something  to  eat." 

"  No,  sir-ee,"  said  Napoleon  Pompey  vehemently. 
"  You'  hain't  gwine  ter  do  dat.  Golly  Ned!  Yo' 
dunno  see.  Mis'  Ollie  she  done  gone  down  inter  de 
Gully,  fetch  ole  hat.  Dat  fire.  Y"o'  see  dat  fire  start- 
in'  up  yonder,  she  never  seed  dat,  I  didn't  see  it  nudder 
nohow:  dat  fire'U  crope  up  an'  cotch  her." 

'*  My  God!  where  is  she?"  cried  Ezra,  roused  to 
sudden  energy  as  it  dawned  upon  him  what  Napoleon 
Pompey  was  explaining. 

"  Down  de  Gully  dar,  she  say  she  gwine  down 
dar." 

"  Amongst  those  tall  weeds  and  that  fire  coming 
on!    Oh  my  God!  " 

His  fatigue  was  all  gone  now.  He  leaped  forward 
and  sprang  with  desperate  bounds  down  the  strag- 
gling path  towards  Weddell's  Gully,  where,  in  a  de- 
serted field  once  tilled  by  that  individual,  prairie  weeds 
were  growing  to  the  height  of  six  feet  and  more,  they 
had  dry  stalks  and  fluffy  downy  heads'  that  would 
burn  like  petroleum,  if  the  fire  once  touch  them.  It 
was  down  there  that  Olive  had  gone,  all  ignorant  of 
that  tiny  red  line  creeping  slowly  around  the  brow  of 
the  hill,  up  against  the  wind,  and  now  approaching 
that  very  spot  with  vicious  little  tongues  of  red  flame. 
No  wonder  Ezra  bounded  along  the  pathway,  no  won- 
der his  heart  beat  ready  to  burst,  and  no  wonder  if 
his   voice   sounded   harsh   and   choking   as   he   cried 


THE  PRAIRIE   FIRE.  155 

"  Olive!  Olive!  Olive! "  again  and  again  until  his 
brain  reeled.  He  got  no  answer  except  the  crackle  of 
the  fire.  He  stumbled  along  not  knowing  which  way 
to  turn,  and  twice  fell  forward  as  his  foot  caught  in 
the  tangled  grass.  He  staggered  to  his  feet  and  rais- 
ing his  agonised  face  cried  in  a  harsh  whisper,  "  Oh 
God!  my  wife,  my  wife!  ''  He  tried  to  shout  again, 
but  his  dry  throat  made  no  articulate  sound.  His 
temples  seemed  bursting,  he  dashed  forward  blindly, 
not  knowing  where  to  look  for  Olive  in  the  horrid 
darkness,  soon  to  be  turned  into  still  more  horrid 
light.  His  foot  struck  against  an  old  rail  at  the  edge 
of  WeddelFs  deserted  field,  he  fell  heavily,  hitting  his 
head  against  the  projecting  end  of  the  rail,  rolled  over 
and  lay  still.  The  little  flames  crept  nearer  and  nearer 
lapping  out  their  malicious  red  tongues  as  if  in  antici- 
pation. 


11 


CHAPTER   XIII. 


THE   EESCUE. 


Madame  had  worked  hard  with  the  rest  in  beating 
back  the  fire,  and  now  that  slie  saw  that  their  united 
efforts  had  been  successful  and  that  Perfection  City 
was  safe,  she,  in  company  with  Balthasar,  was  going 
the  circuit  of  the  defences  of  their  home,  just  to  see 
that  there  remained  nothing  further  for  her  to  do. 
In  the  course  of  time  she  came  to  Napoleon  Pompey, 
who  was  in  charge  of  the  last  scrap  of  back-firing,  in- 
tent on  maintaining  guard  and  on  effecting  a  com- 
plete junction  of  the  two  lines  of  fire,  so  as  not  to 
leave  so  much  as  a  handsbreadth  of  standing  grass 
whereby  the  enemy  might  even  at  the  last  minute 
burst  in  upon  them.  This  finishing  of  the  circle  was 
important,  and  the  lad  was  in  the  midst  of  his  work 
and  his  distress  when  Madame  loomed  out  through  the 
darkness. 

"  Oh,  Lordy,  dey  is  both  burned,  dey  is!  Oh 
Lordy!  Oh  Lordy,"  cried  Napoleon  Pompey  the  in- 
stant he  set  eyes  upon  Madame. 

"Who  is  burned?"  asked  Madame  in  bewilder- 

156 


THE  RESCUE.  I57 

ment,  well  used  to  the  extravagant  modes  of  speech 
indulged  in  by  negroes. 

"  Mis'  Ollie  an'  Mas'r  Ezra  fo'  shu'." 

"  Are  you  mad,  fool,  what  do  you  mean  ?  "  said 
Madame  furiously. 

"  Mis'  Ollie  done  gone  in  der  Gully  ter  fetch  ole 
hat,  an'  de  fire's  crope  up,  an'  it'll  cotch  her,  oh  Lordy! 
oh  Lordy!  An'  Mas'r  Ezra  he  done  gone  ter  fin'  her 
down  dar,"  said  the  bo}-,  beginning  to  whimper. 

Madame  gripped  his  shoulder  with  a  grasp  of  iron. 

"  Be  quiet,  and  tell  me  what  you  mean.  Sister 
Olive  has  gone  home,  I  passed  her  myself  with  her 
hat  under  her  arm,  and  she  told  me  to  tell  Ezra  she 
had  gone  back." 

"  De  Lord  be  praised!  "  ejaculated  Napoleon  Pom- 
pey.    "  Den  it's  on'y  Mas'r  Ezra'll  be  burnt.    Yah,  you. 
lemme  go!  " 

This  exclamation  was  in  answer  to  the  sudden 
pressure  of  Madame's  hand,  which  was  like  the  clutch 
of  a  vice. 

"  Where  is  Ezra?  Tell  me  or  I'll  wring  your  neck," 
she  said  in  a  voice  the  like  of  which  Napoleon  Pompey 
had  never  heard  before  in  his  life. 

"  Down  dar,"  said  he  terrified,  pointing  to  the 
Gully. 

"  Show  me  where  he  started  from." 

Madame  still  kept  her  hand  upon  Napoleon 
Pompey  who  hurried  to  the  spot  where  Ezra  had 
stood. 


158  PERFECTION  CITY. 

"  Dar's  his  shingle,  what  he  done  drap  when  he 
run." 

"  Ha!  "  said  Madame  pouncing  upon  the  shingle. 
"  Here,  Balthasar,  here  sweetheart !  " 

The  dog  came  up  to  her,  and  she  passed  her  trem- 
bling hands  over  his  long  ears  and  whispered  to  him 
half  crying,  half  coaxing.  "  Here,  dear  heart,  do  this 
for  me  or  I  die.'^ 

She  put  the  shingle  to  his  nose.  He  sniffed,  raised 
his  long  and  pointed  head.  Then  she  lay  upon  the 
ground  coaxing  him  to  put  his  nose  down.  He  sniffed 
again,  took  a  step  to  the  right,  to  the  left,  back,  then 
forward.  Madame  followed  clasping  the  shingle  to 
her  bosom  and  murmuring  cooing  words  of  love  to  her 
dog.  He  raised  his  great  tan  head  and  gave  a  long 
deep  bay  that  echoed  far  and  wide. 

"  Golly!  She  gwine  ter  run  him  down  like  he 
nigger  slave,"  said  Napoleon  Pompey  with  a  shiver, 
as  he  heard  the  dog's  voice. 

Balthasar  set  off  and  Madame  kept  close  at  his 
heels.  It  was  easy  enough,  for  the  trail  was  fresh  and 
strong.  In  three  minutes  they  stood  beside  the  mo- 
tionless form  of  Ezra  at  the  brink  of  the  tall  weeds, 
and  Balthasar  whined  in  anxiety  as  Madame  lifted  his 
head  and  called  upon  him  in  agonised  tones.  Just 
then  the  sky  was  lit  up  with  a  lurid  glare.  The  first 
red  tongue  had  tasted  the  dry  fluffy  weeds  on  Wed- 
dell's  abandoned  farm.  Madame,  startled  by  the  flame, 
sprang  to  her  feet  and  gave  one  hasty  glance  around. 


THE  RESCUE.  159 

Ezra  lay  motionless.  She  stepped  a  few  paces  into 
the  shorter  grass  of  the  ordinary  prairie  and  set  it  on 
fire.  The  little  ring  of  flame  spread  on  all  sides,  like 
the  ripple  from  a  stone  cast  into  still  water.  Then 
she  paddled  out  the  fire  on  the  side  next  Ezra,  and  the 
ripple  of  fire  continued  to  spread  rapidly  in  a  sort  of 
broken  circle.  The  roar  of  the  burning  weeds  was 
like  the  on-coming  of  an  avalanche.  Madame  turned 
to  Ezra  and  seizing  him  under  the  shoulders  dragged 
him  backwards  within  the  safety  of  her  oasis  of  burnt 
prairie.  He  was  a  big  man  and  a  heavy  one,  but  her 
arm  seemed  endowed  with  more  than  mortal  strength. 
She  dragged  him  further  and  further  within  the  circle, 
and  then  seeing  that  he  was  out  of  all  danger,  she  sat 
down  beside  him  and  took  his  head  in  her  lap.  She 
opened  his  collar  and  fanned  him  with  her  hat.  The 
now  brightly  burning  weeds  made  it  light  as  day,-  and 
she  could  see  that  he  looked  pale  even  under  the 
blackened  smoke  that  smeared  his  face,  but  his  pulse 
was  beating,  he  was  only  hurt  and  stunned,  not  dead. 

Balthasar  was  terrified.  Einged  round  by  fire  and 
with  the  ground  where  he  stood  still  smoking  hot, 
what  dog  would  not  be  alarmed?  He  lifted  up  his 
voice  once  more  in  a  long  howl,  and  then  sniffing  at 
Ezra  gave  a  sweeping  lick  with  his  tongue  all  over  his 
face. 

"  Ah!  Ollie!  Where  are  you?  Come!  "  said  Ezra, 
roused  by  this  combined  demonstration.  He  raised 
his  head  in  a  weak  and  bewildered  way.     Madame 


160  PERFECTION  CITY. 

placed  her  hand  on  his  forehead  as  he  sank  down  again. 
He  put  his  own  hand  up  and  taking  hers  said:  "  Little 
wife! " 

Madame  shivered,  and  then  steadying  her  voice 
said,  "  Olive  is  quite  safe!  '' 

Ezra  started  up. 

"  Wh}-,  Avhat  are  you  doing  here  ?  AYhere  is  my 
wife?" 

"  I  came  to  tell  you  that  Olive  had  gone  home, 
and  that  she  had  got  her  hat  all  right.  She  never 
was  in  any  danger  at  all.  It  was  a  mistake  on  the 
part  of  that  negro  hoy." 

"Madame!"  began  Ezra. 

"  Dear  friend,"  said  she. 

"  I  feel  so  strange  and  bewildered,  I  don't  seem 
to  know  what  has  happened." 

"  Lay  your  head  down  again,"  said  Madame,  very 
gently.  "  You  have  had  a  blow.  You  will  soon  be 
all  right." 

Ezra's  head  sank  again  into  her  lap.  He  gave  a 
deep  sigh. 

"  Y^ou  came  down  here  into  the  Gully  after  Olive 
who,  according  to  the  negro,  had  gone  in  search 
of  her  hat.  Y^ou  could  not  surely  have  realized 
that  the  fire  was  coming  up  against  the  wind  and 
that  it  would  be  death  to  be  caught  among  the 
weeds." 

"  I  knew,  I  knew,"  said  Ezra.  "  That  was  why  I 
came.     Olive  was  here." 


THE  RESCUE.     ;  161 

''But  she  wasn't,  she  never  had  been  here  at  all," 
interrupted  Madame. 

"  I  shouted,  but  no  answer  came.  I  could  not 
find  Olive.  I  remember  the  awful  agony  of  it.  My 
head  seemed  turning  to  fire  and  I  couldn't  find  Olive. 
I  don't  remember  any  more." 

"  You  fell  and  knocked  yourself  senseless,"  said 
Madame. 

"  Is  Olive  safe  ?  Tell  me,  are  you  sure  Olive  is 
safe?" 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  I  passed  her  on  her  way  home?  " 
said  Madame  a  little  sharply. 

"  But  this  fire! "  exclaimed  Ezra,  starting  up. 
*'  We  must  get  out  of  this." 

"  Hush,  lie  down  again,"  said  Madame,  her  voice 
dropping  again  into  its  tone  of  caressing  entreaty. 
"  Your  head  must  be  still  giddy  or  you  would  per- 
ceive that  we  are  surrounded.  We  can't  get  out  until 
the  fires  meet  and  extinguish  each  other.  Eest  and  be 
patient." 

Ezra  saw  that  this  was  true.  They  were  entirely 
surrounded  by  a  ring  of  retreating  fire,  the  heat  from 
which  was  oppressive.  He  sat  down  again,  but  did 
not  lay  his  head  in  Madame's  lap.  Perhaps  it  was  be- 
cause he  felt  less  giddy. 

He  asked  her  how  she  came  there,  and  Madame 
very  briefiy  told  him,  dwelling  not  at  all  upon  her 
share  in  finding  him,  but  rather  upon  the  sagacity  of 
Balthasar.     Ezra,  however,  was  not  to  be  deceived. 


162  PERFECTION  CITY. 

"  You  risked  your  life  for  me  this  night,  Madame," 
he  said  slowly,  when  she  had  finished  speaking. 

"  Possibly.  I  never  thought  about  it.  I  could 
not  leave  you  here  to  die,  to  be  burnt  to  death.  Had 
the  case  been  reversed  you  would  have  come  to  my 
rescue.'' 

"  You  are  the  most  generous  of  mortals,  the  no- 
blest of  women,"  said  Ezra  earnestly.  "  It  was  as- 
suredly the  brightest  day  of  my  life  that  led  me  across 
3^our  path.  You  taught  me  how  to  live,  and  to-night 
your  generous  hand  has  saved  me  from  death." 

"  Hush!  "  said  Madame  faintly. 

''  I  owe  my  life  to  you,"  repeated  Ezra.  "  What 
shall  I  do  to  repay  such  a  debt?" 

"  Am  I  a  usurer  that  I  should  exact  my  pound  of 
flesh?"  answered  Madame. 

"  Usurer!  "  exclaimed  Ezra.  "  That  is  indeed  the 
last  word  to  be  applied  to  you.  Is  a  usurer  one  who 
is  always  giving?  Giving  from  her  wealth  freely  and 
without  stint?  Is  a  usurer  one  who  is  ever  helping 
and  directing  into  the  paths  of  righteousness  those 
who  are  feeble  and  faltering  of  step?  Ah,  Madame, 
I  never  can  half  tell  you  all  that  I  owe  you!  How 
narrow  and  selfish  would  my  life  have  been  but  for 
you!  Devoted  to  petty  cares,  absorbed  in  personal 
ambitions,  rejoicing  in  sordid  gains, — such  would  have 
been  my  fate,  only  Providence  brought  me  to  you  to 
be  taught,  guided,  elevated,  purified.  My  life  is  yours, 
you  have  made  it,  dearest,  wisest,  best,  of  friends." 


THE  RESCUE.  163 

''And  Olive?"  said  Madame  quietl}^ 

"  Ah,  there  too  shall  be  your  handiwork  seen/' 
said  Ezra.  "  My  little  Olive  is  very  young.  Some- 
times I  think  her  mind  is  even  younger  than  her  body, 
and  she  is  barely  twenty,  you  know,  a  mere  child  and 
easily  moulded." 

Madame  remembering  her  last  encounter  with 
Olive,  seemed  to  recall  very  little  that  was  either 
childlike  or  plastic  in  the  concluding  portion  of  their 
conversation,  but  she  did  not  say  so  to  Ezra  who  went 
on  talking. 

"  She  often,  however,  puzzles  me,  she  has  such 
sudden  freaks  and  fancies,  as  if  her  heart  was  a  wild 
creature  not  fully  tamed  and  ever  dashing  against 
the  bars  of  its  environment.  I  sometimes  feel  that 
I  have  not  the  necessary  wisdom  or  tact  to  guide  and 
counsel  her.  She  seems  to  need  someone  who  is  wiser 
and  mor6  skilful  than  I  am.  Sometimes  I  fear  she 
does  not  quite  realise  the  responsibilities  of  life.  The 
problems  which  have  come  up  before  us  and  which 
cry  aloud  for  solution,  seem  to  her  but  trivial  matters 
that  may  be  trusted  to  settle  themselves.  We  must 
endeavour,  dear  friend,  to  arouse  Olive's  enthusiasm 
about  Perfection  City.  She  is  capable  of  the  highest 
and  noblest  aspirations,  but  her  heart  must  be  turned 
into  the  right  direction.  She  evinces  a  certain  hesi- 
tancy in  throwing  herself  into  our  work  and  aims." 

"Perhaps  she  is  opposed  to  the  whole  thing,"  sug- 
gested Madame. 


164  PERFECTION  CITY. 

"  That  cannot  be,"  replied  Ezra  earnesti}'.  "  She 
must  see  as  we  do,  when  she  comes  thoroughly  to 
understand  our  motives  in  founding  Perfection  City. 
I  look  to  you,  ^Madame,  to  open  her  eyes  to  the  truth." 

"Ah!"  said  Madame  laconically,  and  then  she 
added,  after  a  moment's  pause,  *^  I  will  ask  you  to 
do  one  thing  for  me." 

"  Anything  you  ask  I  will  do  if  it  is  in  my  pow- 
er," said  Ezra. 

"  Do  not  tell  Olive  of  your  fall  here,  nor  of  the 
danger  you  were  in,  nor  of  my  coming  to  find  you." 

After  a  moment  of  puzzled  silence  Ezra  said,  "  Of 
course  your  wishes  are  to  me  law.  But  may  I  ask 
why  you  make  such  a  request  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  I  am  judging  wrongly,  but  I  am  acting 
as  if  Olive  had  the  same  feelings  as  I  should  have. 
If  I  were  in  her  place,  I  should  hate  it." 

"Why?"  asked  Ezra  in  surprise. 

Madame  rose  up,  her  pale  face  illumined  by  the 
light  of  the  fire. 

"If  I  loved  a  man,"  she  said,  beginning  very 
quietly,  but  her  voice  gathered  in  intensity  as  she 
spoke.  "  If  I  loved  a  man,  I  could  not  bear  it.  To 
think  that  my  love  had  failed  him  in  his  sorest  need. 
He  was  lying  stunned,  helpless,  within  the  clutch  of 
deadly  peril,  and  I  went  home  unwarned,  leaving 
him  to  his  fate,  all  unconscious  of  the  whole  thing, 
while  another  woman — not  I,  but  another  woman — 
went  to   his   rescue,   another   woman — not   I — found 


THE  RESCUE.  165 

him,  saved  him,  drew  him  out  of  danger,  while  I 
walked  heedlessly  home.  I  should  hate  myself,  I 
should  hate — ah!  I  should  hate  to  the  verge  of  killing 
that  other  woman  who  had  saved  him.  That  is  the 
way  I  should  feel,  if  I  loved." 

She  concluded  hastily,  her  voice  dropping  to  a 
whisper.     Ezra  looked  up  at  her  in  amazement. 

"  Yours  is  a  many-sided  nature.  I  never  suspected 
you  could  feel  like  that.  I  never  thought  of  you  as 
being — as  capable  of "  he  stopped  in  confusion. 

"  Ah  yes!  You  never  thought  of  me  as  being  able 
to  love — to  love  a  man  and  not  an  impersonal  cause. 
Ah  yes!  You  never  quite  looked  upon  me  as  a  mere 
woman." 

"  I  have  always  regarded  you  as  something  higher 
than  a  mere  woman,"  said  Ezra. 

"  Listen,"  she  said,  sitting  down  again  beside  him. 
"  You  have  yet  to  know  me — the  woman,  I  mean, 
and  not  the  pioneer  of  Perfection  City.  My  father 
was  a  man  of  passionate  nature.  He  had  fine  instincts, 
but  these  were  not  developed.  He  was  a  Eussian 
noble.  I  come  of  very  good  blood,  as  they  say  in  the 
old  world." 

"  I  always  knew  you  were  of  distinguished  birth," 
said  Ezra. 

"  Not  at  all,  quite  the  contrary,"  said  Madame, 
with  a  laugh  that  sounded  harsh.  "  My  father  was 
a  wild,  self-willed  Eussian  noble.  He  was  to  have 
married  a  lady  of  princely  house,  only  that  he  re- 


166  PERFECTION  CITY. 

fused  to  do  one  thing  which  they  made  a  condition  of 
the  marriage." 

"What  was  that?" 

"To  give  up  my  mother.  Do  you  understand? 
He  could  not  marry  the  princess,  and  he  sacrificed 
wealth,  position,  and  worldly  honour,  because  he 
would  not  give  up  the  pale-haired  English  girl  whom 
he  loved  passionately,  and  who  was  my  mother.  She 
died,  and  my  father  died  too,  not  many  years  after- 
wards. He  did  what  he  could  for  me  by  leaving  me 
his  fortune  and  the  permission  to  bear  his  name,  to 
which  I  had  no  legal  right.  From  my  mother  I  in- 
herited my  brain,  but  my  heart  I  inherited  from  my 
father.    Now  let  us  go." 

"  Must  we  ?  "  said  Ezra,  to  whom  Madame's  sudden 
confession  had  been  full  of  interest.  "  There  is  noth- 
ing further  for  us  to  do.    Perfection  City  is  safe." 

"  But  we  must  return  to  real  life.  Brother  Ezra. 
Sitting  here,  ringed  around  with  fire,  we  were  alone 
in  a  world  of  our  own.  For  a  few  moments  we  lived 
for  each  other,  as  it  were.  Our  spirits  communed,  and 
I  opened  my  heart  to  you  as  never  before  to  mortal 
being.  Now  we  must  go  back  to  real  life  again.  See 
the  fires  are  all  out,  and  the  world  is  itself  again — all 
dark." 

Ezra  rose  to  his  feet  and  staggered  a  little,  as  Ma- 
dame perceived  from  the  stumble  he  made.  She  seemed 
preternaturally  acute,  and  to  be  able  to  understand  by 
the  help  of  some  new  sense,  for  she  put  out  her  hand 


THE  RESCUE.  167 

and  touched  his  arm,  "  Lean  on  me,  brother,  you  are 
still  giddy  from  your  accident.  We  will  walk  very 
slowly." 

Ezra,  feeling  indeed  faint  enough,  gratefully  ac- 
cepted the  proffered  help  and  put  his  hand  within  her 
arm;  thus  very  slowly  they  started  back  towards  the 
house  through  the  inky  black  night.  "  Friend,  what 
I  said  is  to  be  locked  in  your  breast,  a  secret,"  said 
Madame. 

"  I  fully  understand  that,"  replied  Ezra,  "  and  I 
feel  it  a  high  honour  that  you  should  have  chosen  me 
as  the  repository  of  the  secret  of  your  life.  It  is  safe, 
nay  more,  it  is  sacred,  with  me." 

It  took  them  a  long  time  in  the  intense  darkness 
to  reach  Ezra's  house  where  a  light  was  glimmering 
from  the  window.  "When  they  at  length  reached 
the  bars,  Madame  said,  "  I  will  not  go  in.  Oh,  I 
know  what  you  would  say,  but  I  would  prefer 
not.  Olive  would  resent  my  bringing  you  back  to 
her." 

"  You  mistake  Olive  utterly,"  said  Ezra  earnestly. 
"  Believe  me,  hers  is  a  simple  nature,  she  would  have 
no  such  feelings  as  you  think." 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right,  and  that  she  is  a  child 
in  mind  and  not  yet  a  woman  in  heart.  Possibly  I 
endow  her  with  feelings  she  could  not  even  under- 
stand. I  judge  her  by  myself,  and  maybe  all  the  while 
her  little  soul  is  possessed  with  nothing  but  content 
at  the  thought  that  her  pretty  hat  is  all  safe.     The 


168  PERFECTION  CITY. 

butterfl}'  must  not  be  blamed  if  it  does  not  rise  as 
high  as  the  lark.     Farewell." 

Olive  was  waiting  for  him  impatiently,  anxiously. 

''  Oh  Ezra,  where  have  you  been?  And  isn't  your 
face  black?  You  are  every  w^hit  as  black  as  Napoleon 
Pompey.     Wasn't  it  fun?" 

^'  Fun  ?    What  was  fun  ?  "  asked  Ezra  languidly. 

"  Why,  the  fire  of  course,  now  that  it  is  all  over. 
It  was  so  exciting.  I  was  as  hungry  as  a  hawk  when 
I  came  in.  I  really  could  not  wait,  so  I  had  supper. 
You  must  have  yours  this  very  minute.  Do  you  know, 
it  is  one  o'clock  at  night,  and  you  have  not  tasted  a 
morsel  of  food  since  twelve  o'clock  yesterday?  Do 
you  realize  that  ?  " 

She  bustled  around  and  got  his  supper  ready,  chat- 
ting brightly  all  the  while  over  the  incidents  of  the 
fire,  making  fun  and  merriment  out  of  them  all.  Ezra 
sat  stupidly  watching  her,  his  head  throbbing  so  heav- 
ily that  he  could  scarcely  think.  He  could  eat  nothing 
when  the  supper  was  ready,  and  Olive  felt  aggrieved. 
"  I  think  you  might,  just  to  please  me.  It  would  do 
you  good,  for  you  must  be  hungry,  I  should  think." 

He  swallowed  a  few  morsels  and  said  he  would  go 
to  bed,  that  rest  was  what  he  most  needed,  his  head 
ached  badly.  He  was  thankful  she  made  no  inquiries 
after  his  adventures  during  that  eventful  night.  He 
would  have  found  it  difficult  to  tell  a  connected  tale 
with  that  pain  in  his  head.  He  asked  Olive  if  she 
had  gone  down  into  the  Gully. 


THE  RESCUE.  1^9 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  I  started  to  go,  but  it  was  darker 
than  I  thought,  so  I  came  up  again  and  followed  round 
by  the  high  prairie  where  there  was  a  chance  of  meet- 
ing somebody.     I  came  home  with  Willette." 

"  The  fire  did  get  into  the  old  field  after  all,"  said 
Ezra. 

"And  were  the  weeds  burnt?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Oh!  I  wish  I  had  been  there  to  see.  Wasn't  it 
a  lovely  blaze-up?" 

"  Yes,  it  blazed  up,"  said  Ezra. 

Olive  didn't  notice  that  he  seemed  ill,  he  thought 
with  some  bitterness.  Madame  would  have  divined 
it,  no  matter  how  hard  he  had  tried  to  conceal  the 
fact.  After  all,  it  was  not  her  fault  that  she  was  made 
differently.  The  butterfly  was  not  to  be  blamed  if 
it  did  not  soar  as  high  as  the  lark. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 


COTTERELL    ''  WAXTED." 


The  day  after  the  fire  was  an  idle  one  at  Perfec- 
tion Citv.  Xo  one  felt  able  to  work,  Ezra  least  of 
all.  lie  lay  upon  the  floor  of  the  kitchen  with  a  wet 
handkerchief  on  his  head,  and  several  times  he  asked 
Olive  not  to  make  so  mnch  noise.  She  was  as  still  as 
a  mouse,  she  thought,  but  then  his  head  ached,  poor 
fellow!  So  she  went  out  and  sat  in  the  shade  of  the 
house  among  her  morning-glories,  while  the  hens 
walked  about  with  their  wings  down  and  their  tongues 
lolling  out,  trying  to  cool  themselves.  The  black- 
burnt  prairie  seemed  to  send  up  shafts  of  heat  to  the 
copper-coloured  sky. 

A  man  rode  up  to  the  bars,  and  for  one  moment 
Olive's  heart  stood  still.  She  feared  it  might  be  Mr. 
Cotterell,  whom  she  had  not  seen  since  the  day  at 
the  spring,  now  some  weeks  past.  It  was  not  Mr. 
Cotterell,  however,  but  one  of  the  settlers  from  the 
other  side  of  Cotton  Wood  Creek.  He  came  forward 
with  his  bridle-rein  over  his  arm,  his  horse  following, 
head  down. 

170 


COTTERELL   ''WANTED."  171 

"  Wal,  how'd  you  'uns  git  'long  with  that  pesky- 
fire?  "  he  observed,  without  any  prehminary  greeting. 
He  was  a  Missouri  man,  and  they  often  prided  them- 
selves on  their  rudeness.  It  was  their  way  of  showing 
their  independence. 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Owen,"  said  Olive,  who  knew 
the  man  quite  well.  "  We  have  escaped  all  right, 
thank  you.  I  hope  you  were  not  injured  ?  "  She  was 
extra  careful  in  her  manner,  as  the  politeness  for  two 
had  all  to  be  furnished  by  herself. 

"  Yer  hain't  been  burnt  out  I  see.  You  all's  mighty 
silly  anyhow.  Why  in  thunder  didn't  yer  back-fire 
before?  'Tain't  agin'  yer  principles,  is  it?"  Mr. 
Owen  grinned  under  the  impression  that  he  was 
funny. 

"  We  didn't  back-fire,  because  we  thought  it  wrong 
to  start  a  fire  in  such  a  wind  and  let  it  possibly  burn 
up  our  neighbours,"  said  Olive  stiffly. 

"  Then  'tis  agin  yer  principles  to  back-fire,  by 
Gosh!  The  boys  was  'lowing  as  much  over  to  Union 
Mills." 

"It  is  against  our  principles  to  injure  our  neigh- 
bours. You  don't  object  to  that,  Mr.  Owen,  do  you?  " 
said  Olive. 

"  I  reckon  you'll  git  mighty  tired  o'  them  idees  ef 
yer  live  long  on  the  prairie,"  observed  Mr.  Owen. 

"  Seen  ole  man  Cotterell  lately?  "  he  inquired  sud- 
denly, half  shutting  his  green-grey  eyes  and  looking 

at  Olive  intently. 
12 


172  PERFECTION  CITY. 

She  was  somewhat  suriDrised  at  the  question,  but 
knowing  from  experience  how  inquisitive  the  average 
settler  is,  she  answered  readily  enough. 

"  No,  I  haven't  seen  him  for  a  long  time.  Was  he 
burnt  out?    I  didn't  know  the  fire  had  gone  so  far." 

"  I  calkerlate  he  warn't  fetched  by  the  fire,"  said 
Mr.  Owen,  very  slowly.  He  made  long  pauses  be- 
tween his  remarks,  during  which  he  continued  un- 
remittingly the  steady  occupation  of  his  life,  namely, 
chewing  tobacco.  Olive  began  to  feel  impatient.  She 
did  not  like  to  ask  him  into  the  house  for  fear  of 
disturbing  Ezra,  so  she  sat  down  again  in  her  chair, 
and  pointing  to  a  log  of  wood  which  lay  near  and 
seated  on  which  he  could  still  hold  his  horse,  she 
asked  him  to  take  a  seat  also.  Mr.  Owen  sat  down 
with  a  grunt. 

"  Never  seed  ony  pusson  so  sot  on  posies  as  you 
'uns  be,"  he  observed  conversationally. 

"  Yes,  I  am  very  fond  of  flowers.  They  make 
the  house  more  home-like,  I  think.  The  prairie  is 
very  bare  looking,"  replied  Olive  politely. 

"  Yer  ole  man  oughter  rared  his  house  t'other  side 
the  Gully,  an'  further  down  yon'er.  This  hyar  'ull 
be  powerful  col'  when  we  git  col'  snaps  in  Jan'ar3\ 
Yer  dunno  nothin'  'bout  things  in  this  hyar  all-fired 
'Fection  City,"  said  Mr.  Owen,  looking  around  him 
in  criticism. 

"  Perhaps  not,"  said  Olive,  rather  nettled,  "  but 
we  know  how  to  mind  our  own  business." 


/: 


COTTEHELL   "WANTED."  173 

Mr.  Owen  did  not  feel  one  whit  abashed.  He  was 
far  too  near  akin  to  the  pachyderms  for  OHve's  deli- 
cate little  shafts  to  have  any  effect  on  him.  Another 
long  silence  followed,  and  Olive  began  to  wonder  if 
Owen  was  like  that  man  from  Jacksonville,  who  came 
to  see  them  once  and  stayed  four  hours,  during  which 
time  he  made  only  two  remarks  and  they  possessed 
no  particular  interest.  The  man  and  his  stony  silence 
had  driven  her  nearly  wild,  until  she  reflected  how 
much  more  awful  it  would  have  been  had  she  been 
obliged  to  entertain  him  with  conversation.  A  recol- 
lection of  this  visitation  and  a  dread  born  of  that 
recollection  began  to  invade  her  mind.  Mr.  Owen, 
however,  was  not  going  to  stay  for  four  hours,  and  he 
was  going  to  make  a  remark  of  very  particular  interest, 
a  remark  that  would  quickly  scatter  all  Olive's  other 
ideas.  He  delivered  it  slowly  and  with  the  monotonous 
enunciation  which  proclaimed  him  a  Missouri  man. 

"  The  boys  is  hout  huntin'  down  ole  man  Cot- 
terell." 

"What!"  exclaimed  Olive  turning  very  white. 
Then,  steadying  her  voice  as  well  as  she  could  she 
said,  "  Why  are  they  hunting  him?  " 

"  To  cotch  him,"  replied  her  visitor  concisely. 

"  But  what  for?  "  asked  Olive,  looking  at  him  with 
wide  eyes  of  horror.  She  knew  only  too  well  what 
hunting  down  a  man  portended. 

"  Wal,  there's  bin  a  shootin'  over  to  his  house, 
an'  one  o'  thim  boys  o'  Mills  is  shot,  shot  dead. .  Cot- 


174  PERFECTION  CITY. 

terell  done  it.  And  now  he's  gone  an'  run  off.  The 
boys  they  'lowed  Cotterell  best  be  hung  this  time. 
Las'  time  he  was  let  off.  He  won't  be  agin,  you 
bet." 

"  IIow  do  you  know  he  has  shot  young  Mills? 
What  evidence  have  you  of  it?  "  asked  Olive  in  terror, 
yet  she  could  not  help  pressing  the  man  to  tell  her, 
although  each  word  was  like  a  stab. 

He  gave  a  silent  inward  laugh  as  if  his  thoughts 
were  facetious.  "  Evidence  an'  enough,"  he  said. 
"  Jake  Mills'  body  with  a  bullet  through  his  heart. 
Yer  can't  git  nothin'  j^lainer  in  the  way  of  evidence 
than  that,  I  reckon." 

"  But  how  do  you  know  it  was  Mr.  Cotterell  shot 
him  ?  "  asked  Olive. 

"Damn  my  eyes!  but  yer  mus'  be  a  nateral-born 
fool,  Mis'  Weston.  Jake  Mills  were  foun'  on  Cot- 
terell's  Ian'.  Who  else  could  ha'  done  it?  Besides,  he 
did,  an'  that's  a  fac'  anyhow." 

"  I  think  it  is  perfectly  monstrous,"  burst  out 
Olive,  trembling  with  agitation.  "  I  never  heard  of 
a  wickeder  thing.  Here  is  this  man  you  have  decided 
to  hang,  and  you  don't  even  know  if  he  has  done 
the  thing  you  accuse  him  of.  If  that  is  what  you  call 
prairie  law  and  justice  I  can  only  say  I  never  heard 
of  a  more  sinful  and  unjust  law.  Black  savages 
couldn't  do  worse." 

"  Mos'  like  the  boys  will  let  him  hev  a  trial,  ef 
he's  partic'lar  sot  on't.     That  won't  si'nify  nothin'," 


COTTERELL   *«  WANTED."  175 

said  Mr.  Owen,  again  surveying  Olive  through  the 
narrow  aperture  of  his  half-closed  eyes,  and  again  ap- 
plying himself  to  his  habitual  occupation  with  vigour. 
She  looked  at  him  \vith  a  face  in  which  horror  and 
disgust  struggled  for  mastery. 

"If  this  horrid  murder  is  committed  by  your 
neighbours,  Mr.  Owen,  I  shall  think  that  prairie  men 
are  a  disgrace  to  civilization,"  said  Olive. 

"We  prairie  folks  ain't  particular  sot  on  civiliza- 
tion," remarked  Mr.  Owen  with  affability. 

"I  hope  you'll  never  catch  him,"  said  Olive,  with 
a  sound  very  like  a  sob  in  her  voice. 

"  The  boys  they  'lowed  you'uns  was  mighty  good 
frien's  0'  his'n,  an'  he'd  a  mos'  likely  come  this  hyar 
way  to  make  for  the  Pottawattamie  'fore  we'uns  could 
cotch  him.  That's  why  I  come  'long  ter  look  for  him 
hyar,"  observed  Mr.  Owen,  rising  and  putting  his 
head  under  his  saddle  flap  in  order  to  tighten  up  the 
girth  a  couple  of  holes. 

"Oh,  you've  come  here  to  spy  out,  have  you?" 
said  Olive,  in  passionate  anger.  "Why  didn't  you 
say  so  at  first,  and  ask  the  question  like  a  man,  and 
not  come  sneaking  around?  Do  you  want  to  hunt  all 
over  the  house  and  see  if  we've  got  anybody  hidden 
away?  " 

"No,"  said  Owen  slowly.  "Guess  that'll  do.  I 
ain't  agoin'  ter  hunt  roun'.  We  ain't  no  great  shakes 
at  bein'  fine  folks  out  hyar  on  the  prairie,  but  we 
allers  takes  the  word  of  a  lady,  by  Gosh.     You  said 


176  PERFECTION  CITY. 

you  hain't  seen  nothin'  o'  ole  man  Cotterell,  guess 
that'll  do  for  the  boys.    Mornin'." 

Mr.  Owen  rode  away,  feeling  that  in  the  contest 
of  politeness  that  morning  he  had  certainly  scored  off 
Mrs.  Weston  with  her  stuck-up  Eastern  ways. 

Olive  was  in  an  agony  of  doubt  and  terror.  That 
the  boys  were  out  hunting  for  Cotterell  was,  she  knew, 
but  the  preliminary  to  his  death,  if  they  caught  him. 
The  boys  seldom  or  never  let  off  any  one  they  caught, 
so  she  gathered  from  the  stories  she  had  heard  of  their 
doings  in  time  past.  What  was  she  to  do  in  this  diffi- 
cult  dilemma?     Should   she   tell   Ezra? 

Under  ordinary  circumstances  her  first  impulse 
would  have  been  to  go  straight  to  her  husband  with 
the  story  she  had  heard,  but  in  this  instance  she  felt 
that  such  a  course  would  be  impossible.  She  knew 
that  Ezra  was  jealous  of  Mr.  Cotterell,  he  had  be- 
trayed his  feelings  more  than  once,  and  in  her  heart 
she  knew  that  few  men  can  be  just  towards  the  man 
who  arouses  their  jealousy.  Her  husband  was  a  very 
just  man,  and  could,  more  than  any  one  she  knew, 
put  himself  in  the  place  of  others  and  see  what  was 
right  and  what  was  wrong.  But  in  this  instance  it 
was  not  justice  Olive  wanted,  it  was  justice  that  she 
feared.  Although  she  spoke  bravely  enough  to  Owen, 
a  terrible  fear  lurked  in  her  breast  that  the  evidence, 
though  ludicrously  deficient  by  the  rules  of  procedure 
that  obtain  in  old  established  communities,  was  quite 
sufficient  to  convince  a  prairie  jury.    Ezra  would  not 


COTTERELL   «' WANTED."  I77 

sit  on  a  hanging  jury,  nor  would  he  be  a  party  to 
catching  Mr.  Cotterell,  but  his  sense  of  justice  and 
what  was  due  to  the  principles  professed  at  Perfection 
City  might  carry  him  no  further  than  this  passively 
inactive  point?  Would  he  assist  Cotterell  to  escape? 
Guilty  or  not,  that  was  what  Olive  wanted,  and  to 
help  in  such  an  undertaking,  she  felt  sure,  was  what 
her  husband  might  very  well  refuse  to  do. 

Was  Cotterell  guilty?     Olive  debated  this  point 
anxiously  in  her  mind.     She  knew  he  went  armed, 
but  so  did  many  other  men.     In  fact,  to  be  armed 
was  the  rule  on  the  prairie.     The  doctrine  of  non- 
resistance  was  one  of  the  least  understood  tenets  of  the 
Pioneers  at  Perfection  City,  and  was  observed  by  no- 
body else  on  the  prairie.     Even  Brother  Wright,  as 
we  have  seen — though  Olive  was  quite  unaware  of 
this — had  granted  to  himself  a  special  indulgence  in 
this  matter.    So  the  mere  fact  of  Mr.  CotterelPs  always 
having  his  revolver  in  his  belt  did  not  really  count 
for  anything,  one  way  or  the  other.     He  had  always 
been  so  gentle  and  so  chivalrous  in  his  manner  to  her, 
she  found  it  difficult  to  force  her  mind  to  keep  hold 
of  the  fact  that  he  was  a  very  passionate  man.    Every- 
one said  so,  and  she  knew,  too,  that  the  Mills'  were 
a  bad  lot,  drunken  quarrelsome  men,  who,  as  Ezra 
said,  combined  in  their  character  all  the  vices  of  the 
prairie  and  preserved  none  of  its  virtues.     How  easy 
it  would  be  for  a  proud,  passionate  man  like  Mr. 
Cotterell  to  bring  his  revolver  into  a  heated  argument 


178  PERFECTION  CITY. 

with  Jake  Mills,  who  might  be  mad  with  drink.  But 
surely  such  a  shooting  was  not  murder  according  to 
prairie-law.  In  her  distress  Olive  found  herself  fall- 
ing back  upon  the  probable  laxity  of  that  very  prairie 
justice  which  a  short  time  before  she  had  so  scornfully 
characterised  to  Owen. 

The  "  boys "  who  were  hunting  Cotterell  were, 
as  Olive  well  knew,  the  most  relentless  men  on  the 
prairie,  regular  settlers  who  had  found  by  experience 
that  the  only  way  to  keep  order  was  to  keep  it  with 
their  own  right  hands.  They  had  hung  several  horse- 
thieves  lately,  and  had  declared  they  were  going  to 
put  a  stop  to  the  *'  shooting  round  promiscuous  "  of 
the  younger  blades.  They  were  not  unjust  men,  but 
they  were  hasty,  and  were  moreover  already  terribly 
prejudiced  against  Cotterell. 

Having  decided  that  it  was  best  not  to  tell  Ezra 
what  she  had  heard,  Olive  was  immediately  assailed 
with  a  hundred  doubts.  Suppose  Mr.  Cotterell  came 
to  them  in  his  extremity,  should  she  try  to  conceal 
him?  But  how  utterly  impossible  to  do  so  without 
the  co-operation  of  her  husband!  The  mere  attempt 
to  do  such  a  thing  might  involve  her  in  difficulties 
without  being  of  any  use  to  the  unhappy  man  him- 
self. Then  there  was  Madame.  Should  she  appeal 
to  her  for  help?  Her  heart  revolted  from  such  a 
course.  After  their  last  meeting,  when  they  had  in- 
terchanged hot  words  on  the  subject  of  this  very  man, 
Olive  felt  it  was  impossible  to  ask  Madame's  aid  or  to 


COTTERELL   ''WANTED."  179 

tell  her  anything  about  it.  Then  there  was  no  one, 
and  Olive  resolved  to  keep  the  secret  of  what  she 
had  heard,  hoping  that  something  might  turn  up 
which  would  justify  her  action,  or  at  least  make  any 
further  action  unnecessary.  Thus  do  people  often  put 
off  on  the  shoulders  of  chance  the  burden  of  a  deci- 
sion which  taxes  too  much  their  powers  of  forecasting 
events.  It  was  a  heavy  secret  to  keep  to  herself,  and 
her  face  looked  white  and  scared  as  she  entered  the 
kitchen  on  tip-toe  to  see  how  Ezra  felt.  He  roused 
up  as  she  came  in. 

"  I  am  better  now,  little  woman,"  he  said  in  an- 
swer to  her  inquiries.  "  The  pain  is  all  gone.  I  will 
get  up  and  begin  to  stir  around  again." 

He  went  out  with  her  and  with  the  keenness  which 
is  soon  a  habit  with  a  prairie  man,  he  noticed  the 
hoof-marks  of  Owen's  horse,  where  it  had  stamped 
rather  briskly,  owing  to  the  flies. 

"Who  has  been  here?  Those  are  fresh,"  he  said, 
pointing  to  the  marks. 

"  That  man  from  over  beyond  Cotton  Wood  Creek 
was  here  a  little  while  ago,  Owen  is  his  name:  you 
know  the  man,"  said  Olive,  with  a  beating  heart. 

"  Cattle-hunting  after  the  fire,  I  suppose.  Were 
they  burnt  out  yesterday?  "  asked  Ezra,  with  slight 
show  of  interest. 

"  Xo,  I  believe  not,  he  did  not  say.  He  sneered 
at  the  Pioneers  for  not  having  safe-guarded  them- 
selves, heedless  of  the  welfare  of  the  other  settlers, 


180  PERFECTION  CITY. 

SO  I  suppose  lie  had  been  betimes  with  his  back-firing, 
at  least  if  he  lives  up  to  his  principles/^  remarked 
Olive. 

"  It  is  too  late  to  go  and  hunt  for  our  horses/' 
said  Ezra,  "  and  I  feel  too  tired  to  start  out  on  foot 
after  them.  They  may  very  well  be  five  miles  away 
by  this  time.  Did  you  ask  Owen  if  he  had  seen 
them?" 

"  No,  I  never  thought  of  doing  so." 

"  Don't  forget  always  to  ask  everyone  if  they  have 
seen  your  horses  whenever  they  are  out  on  the  prairie: 
it  is  one  of  the  golden  rules  of  prairie  life/'  said  Ezra, 
tapping  her  chin. 

"  But  he  wouldn't  have  known  Queen  Katharine 
and  Eebel  even  if  he  did  happen  to  meet  them/'  ob- 
jected Olive.  "  How  could  he  know  one  pair  of  strange 
horses  from  another?  " 

^^  Bless  your  sweet  eyes,  Owen  knows  every  horse 
and  cow  belonging  to  his  neighbours  for  a  radius  of 
ten  miles  from  his  house,  at  the  very  least.  Telling 
a  neighbour  where  his  cattle  are,  is  the  only  rule  of 
politeness  known  to  many  of  them,  and  they  are  punc- 
tilious about  it,"  said  Ezra  laughing. 

"I  wish  I  had  known  that,  because  I  found  him 
deficient  in  many  of  the  rules  I  have  been  taught/' 
said  Olive.  "  Possibly  he  found  me  as  lacking,  accord- 
ing to  his  estimate." 

Ezra  did  not  go  out  to  hunt  for  the  horses 
the  next  morning  as  he  had  intended.     Other  work, 


COTTERELL   *' WANTED."  181 

whidh  seemed  more  important,  turned  up  for  him. 
Brother  Wright  came  that  same  evening  to  arrange 

about  it. 

"  Good  evening,  friends/'  he  said.  "  I  trust  you 
are  both  rested  after  yesterday.  It  was  a  hard  day 
and  a  harder  night.     Brother  Ezra,  you  did  splen^ 

didly." 

"We  were  much  alarmed  for  the  safety  of  Per- 
fection City:  I  don't  think  it  is  ever  likely  to  be  in 
greater  danger,"  said  Ezra. 

"No,  I  suppose,  not  from  the  outside,"  said 
Wright. 

"And  we  are  not  likely  to  be  set  on  fire 
from  the  inside,  are  we?"  observed  Ezra  with  a 
laugh. 

"  Accidents  may  happen,"  said  Olive. 

"  Even  in  the  best  regulated  communities,"  added 
Brother  Wright.  "However,  what  I  came  to  talk 
about  was  the  future,  and  not  the  past.  We've  got 
two  good  loads  of  corn  ready,  it  ought  to  be  sold  at 
once  in  Mapleton.  We'll  get  top  price.  I  stepped 
into  Madame's  as  I  came  along,  and  she  agreed  with 
me.  We  must  sell  at  once.  Brother  Dummy  has  got 
his  waggon  loaded  up  ready  to  start.  It  is  a  marvel 
how  much  that  man  does  get  through  in  the  way  of 
work.  Well,  the  question  is,  who  will  go  with  the 
corn?  Brother  Dummy  must  drive  his  own  team, 
because  no  other  man  could  manage  that  black  horse 
for  half  an  hour.    Biting  Bill  would  kick  the  waggon 


182  PERFECTION  CITY. 

into  match-wood  in  two  minutes,  if  any  of  us  at- 
tempted to  touch  his  reins.  I  wonder  whether  it  is 
the  absolutely  silent  driving  which  cows  him?  You 
are  out  and  out  the  best  one  for  attending  to  business 
of  any  here.  Madame  thinks  it  would  be  well  for  you 
to  go,  and  so  do  I." 

"  I  am  quite  ready/'  replied  Ezra.  "  But  my  horses 
are  both  out  on  the  prairie.  I  turned  them  loose  after 
the  fire  to  let  them  run  off  to  the  Creek,  as  I  had  no 
time  to  put  them  up  and  feed  them.  To-day  I  did  not 
feel  able  to  hunt  after  them." 

"Well,  suppose  you  take  my  team,  and  I  will 
find  your  horses  for  you  to-morrow.  Will  that 
do?" 

"  All  right,  then  I'll  go  to  Mapleton." 

"  The  corn  is  already  shucked,  it  won't  take  half 
an  hour  to  load  up.  You  and  I  will  do  it  while  the 
horses  are  feeding.  You  ought  to  get  off  by  six,  I 
will  feed  the  horses  at  five." 

Each  spoke  of  his  horses  and  his  waggons  much 
in  the  same  way  as  an  artillery  officer  speaks  of  his 
guns.  There  were  three  pairs  of  horses  in  the  Com- 
munity, and,  in  theory  at  least,  everyone  was  equally 
free  to  use  them,  but  experience  showed  that  that  sort 
of  handling  did  not  suit  horses,  who  do  better  if  left 
always  in  the  care  of  the  same  persons.  Therefore 
it  came  about  that  Brother  Dummy  always  had  Biting 
Bill,  since  no  one  else  could  manage  the  brute,  and 
Ezra  generally  had  Queen  Katharine  and  Rebel,  while 


COTTERELL   "WANTED."  183 

Brother  Wright  kept  the  greys.  Now  these  animals, 
although  common  property,  were  invariably  spoken  of 
by  their  drivers  as  theirs,  for  the  use  of  certain  famil- 
iar phrases,  which  to  the  outsider  might  seem  to  de- 
note the  idea  of  private  property,  came  naturally  to 
their  lips.  It  is  often  more  difficult  to  change  habits 
of  speech  than  laws  of  property.  Reformers  who 
start  out  to  alter  the  whole  course  of  modern  ideas  and 
to  rearrange  the  world  according  to  a  plan  of  their 
own  devising,  would  do  well  to  meditate  upon  this 
peculiarity  and  see  what  it  points  to.  Surely  so  slight 
a  thing  as  a  word  might  easily  be  eradicated  from 
human  speech,  and  yet  how  difficult  it  is  to  do  so. 
But  the  point  to  consider  is  that  the  pertinacity,  which 
shows  itself  in  modes  of  expression,  may  very  well 
exist  in  just  as  strong  a  form  in  habits  of  thought 
and  feeling.  The  Pioneers,  like  others  of  that  sort, 
passed  over  and  disregarded  such  expressions  as  "my 
horse,"  "  my  waggon,"  and  "  your  plough,"  not  appar- 
ently recognizing  that  the  expressions  denoted  a  habit 
of  thought  that  might  very  easily  strike  at  the  very 
root  of  their  institution.  They  were  communists,  as 
Olive  had  said,  in  bits  of  this  and  scraps  of  that,  but 
the  old  leaven  of  individualism  was  there  still  among 
them,  only  dormant.  The  Pioneers  never  expected 
that  the  leaven  would  again  become  an  active  principle. 
Like  other  people,  they  were  unable  to  see  into  the 
future,  and  therefore  rejoiced  in  their  escape  from 
the  perils  of  the  prairie  fire  and  considered  that  they 


184  PERFECTION  CITY. 

had  no  further  danger  to  apprehend  for  this  winter 
at  least.  The  sea  was  smooth  and  the  sky  was  serene, 
so  to  speak,  and  they  did  not  perceive  the  sunken 
rocks  that  lay  in  the  track  of  their  experimental 
bark. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

IN  QUEST  OF  NEWS. 

Olive  was  early  astir  the  next  morning,  in  order 
to  see  her  husband  off  and  also  to  provide  him  with 
food  in  ample  abundance  to  last  him  for  the  trip.  He 
carried  a  plentiful  store  of  dried  beef,  a  portable  com- 
modity much  in  request  on  the  prairie.  The  old  trap- 
pers had  showed  the  settlers  how  to  make  it,  and  the 
trappers  had  acquired  the  art  from  the  Indians.  Dried 
beef  is  precisely  what  its  name  indicates.  It  is  raw 
beef,  somewhat  salted,  and  then  dried  in  the  sun  until 
it  is  like  a  piece  of  solid  leather.  It  has  to  be  cut  into 
thin  slices  across  the  grain  before  the  stoutest  teeth 
can  make  the  slightest  impression  upon  it.  It  may 
be  also  cooked  in  a  batter  of  eggs  for  the  dainty,  but 
has  only  to  be  sliced  up  with  a  jack-knife  to  be  eaten 
by  the  average  teamster  on  the  prairie.  Besides  the 
dried  meat  and  plenty  of  corn-bread,  Ezra  had  milk 
in  a  bottle  and  one  of  Olive's  wedding  presents  to  eat, 
namely,  a  tin  of  peaches.  He  travelled  therefore  in 
extreme  luxury.  He  set  off  along  with  Brother  Dum- 
my just  as  the  sun  was  rising,  and  the  canvas  covers 

185 


186  PERFECTION  CITY. 

of  the  waggons  showed  for  a  long  time  as  two  moving 
white  specks  as  they  slowly  crept  across  the  blackened 
landscape,  finally  disappearing  behind  the  Mounds 
some  twelve  miles  to  the  west  of  Perfection  City. 

Olive  remained  alone  at  home  with  Napoleon  Pom- 
pey  and  Diana  to  keep  her  company,  until  Ezra  should 
return  in  four  days'  time.  It  was  only  with  great  re- 
luctance that  he  had  consented  to  this.  He  did  not  at 
all  like  the  idea  of  her  remaining  alone  in  the  house. 
As  usual,  when  it  came  to  Olive  doing  what  the  ordi- 
nary prairie  settler's  wife  did  as  a  matter  of  course, 
Ezra's  love  took  fright.  He  urged  her  to  go  and  stay 
at  Madame's  house,  she  would  be  more  than  welcome, 
he  declared,  in  fact  it  seemed  to  him  almost  necessary 
that  she  should  go,  and  he  insisted  strongly  upon  the 
plan.  Olive  was  as  strongly  opposed  to  it.  Why 
couldn't  she  stay  in  her  own  house?  She  would  much 
prefer  it,  so  as  to  be  on  hand  to  feed  the  chickens  and 
milk  the  cows  and  generally  see  to  things.  Besides, 
she  felt  quite  sure  she  would  be  vastly  in  Madame's 
way.  Ezra  combated  this  position  vigorously.  Olive 
could  not  be  in  anyone's  way,  even  if  she  tried.  More- 
over, was  not  Madame  a  communist  like  the  rest  of 
them,  and  she  would  be  only  too  pleased  to  take  Olive 
into  her  home  as  she  had  already  done  into  her  heart. 
His  spouse  made  no  comment,  except  a  mental  one,  to 
this  argument,  but  reiterated  her  preference  for  stay- 
ing at  home.  It  would  only  be  three  days  or  four  at 
most,  and  she  would  be  very  busy.     Ezra  hinted  at 


IN  QUEST  OF  NEWS.  187 

possible  danger  if  it  were  known  she  was  alone  in  the 
house. 

"But  I  won't  be  alone:  there  is  Napoleon  Pompey 
for  one  and  Diana  for  two.  Surely  between  so  stout 
a  pair  nothing  on  earth  can  happen  to  me,"  she  said, 
smiling  at  his  anxious  face. 

"  I  don't  feel  easy  about  you,"  said  Ezra,  looking  at 
her  with  mournful  eyes.  "  I  never  left  you  alone 
before,  and  it  suddenly  seems  to  me  a  most  portentous 
thing." 

"  Why,  you  dear  silly  old  thing!  "  exclaimed  Olive, 
"  I  do  believe  you'll  have  omens  next,  and  will  look 
into  tea-cups  to  see  if  it  is  a  propitious  moment  for 
the  success  of  this  undertaking.  I  never  knew  you 
*  take  on  '  like  this  before." 

"  I  never  did  so,  but  it  is  all  because  I  love  you, 
dear.  I  quite  understand  what  it  means,  to  be  foolish 
with  love.  I  used  not  to  know  what  it  was.  I  wonder 
do  women  ever  feel  the  same  as  we  men  do?  " 

"  Women,  my  dear,  are  sent  into  this  world  for 
the  express  purpose  of  making  men  do  what  they  ought 
and  not  be  silly,"  said  Olive  severely.  "  Now  I  know 
you'll  have  the  feed  for  the  horses  all  right,  but  re- 
member the  feed  for  yourself  is  in  this  basket,  every- 
thing you'll  want,  and  there  is  salt  for  the  boiled 
eggs." 

When  the  hurry  of  getting  the  waggons  off  was 

over,  Olive  sat  down  to  think,  and  immediately  there 

rose  up  before  her  the  image  of  a  hunted  man  flying 
13 


188  PERFECTION  CITY. 

for  his  life.  In  some  ways  it  was  a  relief  that  Ezra 
was  gone,  she  would  not  have  to  be  constantly  making 
an  effort  to  hide  the  real  anxiety  in  her  mind.  Then 
she  thought  of  Ezra  and  of  his  great  and  boundless 
devotion  to  her,  and  the  words  Madame  had  spoken  in 
her  wrath  rose  up  before  her  and  rebuked  her.  Were 
they  true?  Had  she  hidden  her  real  nature  from  her 
husband  before  her  marriage?  She  had  never  meant 
to  do  so,  but  in  their  long  pre-nuptial  conversations 
it  had  not  appeared  to  her  that  she  and  Ezra  were  so 
different  in  their  views  of  life  and  its  duties  as  perhaps 
was  now  the  case.  He  certainly  had  told  her  of  the 
experiment  of  Perfection  City,  and  she  had  accepted 
him  and  the  experiment  together  because  they  were 
indissoluble.  She  of  herself  would  never  have  initiated 
the  communistic  idea;  but  then  there  was  nothing 
wonderful  in  that,  woman  never  do  initiate  anything, 
they  only  follow  some  man's  lead  with  more  or  less 
enthusiasm  and  intelligence. 

Were  she  to  have  expressed  her  own  private  pre- 
dilection, it  certainly  would  have  been  for  a  little 
home  of  her  own  on  the  usual  lines,  which  little  home 
it  would  have  been  her  pride  and  her  pleasure  to  make 
as  beautiful  as  she  could.  Olive  did  not  possess  a  large 
and  speculative  mind,  capable  of  vast  dreamy  projects, 
whose  limitless  possibilities  were  in  imagination  not 
checked  by  small  practical  obstacles.  On  the  con- 
trary, it  was  the  tendency  of  her  intellect  to  perceive 
those  obstacles  with  startling  clearness,  and  to  demon- 


IN  QUEST  OF  NEWS.  189 

strate,  by  a  few  biting  truisms,  the  impossibility  of 
turning  the  dreamy  vastnesses  to  use.  She  was  nei- 
ther hard-headed  nor  dull-headed,  but  hers  was  a  prac- 
tical nature,  very  much  jarred  by  idle  vapourings,  and 
above  all  she  was  kept  in  the  straight  path  of  common 
sense  by  her  keen  appreciation  of  the  ridiculous. 

This  faculty  enabled  her  to  perceive  how  often  re- 
formers run  off  the  track  of  common  sense,  and  while 
pinning  their  faith  to  one  particular  little  tenet  which 
they  constitute  the  corner-stone  of  their  philosophy, 
lose  sight  of  the  whole  world  beyond.  Olive  possessed 
in  a  high  degree  the  sense  of  proportion,  which  in  a 
true  reformer  is  generally  absent.  When  Ezra  with 
his  cultivated  mind  and  really  fine  intellect,  talked 
to  her  of  the  reforming  of  the  present  type  of  civiliza- 
tion, and  briefly  sketched  out  what  he  hoped  would 
be  the  result  of  the  introduction  of  the  communistic 
idea  into  life,  she  could  not  help  remarking  that  he 
used  very  much  the  same  expressions,  and  seemed  ani- 
mated by  very  much  the  same  hopes,  as  those  indulged 
in  by  one  of  the  dietetic  reformers  she  knew  in  Smyrna, 
who  promised  all  the  glories  of  the  golden  age  to  man- 
kind if  the  human  race  would  only  give  up  the  bane- 
ful practices  of  eating  meat  and  of  cooking  vegetables! 

And  every  few  minutes,  across  the  mirror  of  her 
reflections,  there  came  a  shadow  of  a  desperate  man 
spurring  on  a  jaded  horse.  Olive  could  not  shake  off 
a  sense  of  impending  disaster,  but  unlike  Ezra,  who 
attributed  his  melancholy  to  his  great  love  for  Olive 


190  PERFECTION  CITY. 

and  a  vague,  unreasoning  dread  of  something  happen- 
ing to  her  in  his  absence,  she  knew  quite  well  what 
she  feared  and  why. 

As  the  morning  wore  on,  Olive  began  to  feel  it 
impossible  to  remain  quietly  at  home  in  the  midst 
of  her  anxiety.  She  must  go  out  and  hear  what  news 
there  was,  or  at  all  events  she  must  learn  if  there  was 
any  news.  Resolved  not  to  hold  any  communication 
with  Madame  other  than  what  was  publicly  necessary 
— for  between  the  two  there  was  now  maintained  a 
sort  of  armed  neutrality — she  decided  to  call  at  the 
blacksmith's,  as  Brother  Green  was  in  the  way  of  most 
of  the  gossip,  if  gossip  is  a  term  that  could  be  rightly 
applied  to  the  feeble  and  intermittent  stream  of  prai- 
rie news  that  trickled  through  the  smithy.  Brother 
Green  was  a  silent,  self-absorbed  man  who  worked 
steadily  and  brought  much  personal  devotion  into  the 
project  of  Perfection  City.  He  was  a  lonely  man, 
a  widower,  and  to  judge  by  appearances  a  disappointed 
man  as  well.  He  was  surprised  to  see  Sister  Olive, 
and  very  pleased,  but  could  not  shake  hands  as  he  was 
very  dirty,  and  she  looked  so  brightly  clean.  Having 
wiped  a  wooden  bench  with  his  leather  apron  and 
again  with  the  sleeve  of  his  shirt,  he  invited  her  to 
be  seated.  Brother  Green  was  welding  some  iron,  and 
Olive  waited  until  the  operation  was  concluded  and 
the  plough-hook  made  before  she  talked  to  him.  Mean- 
while she  watched  with  interest  the  white  glowing 
fire  and  the  pulpy  white-hot  iron-bar,  helplessly  bend- 


IN  QUEST  OF  NEWS.  igj 

ing  over  at  the  end  like  a  piece  of  half  boiled  molasses 
candy. 

"  I  felt  so  lonesome,  I  thought  I  would  come  out 
and  talk' to  someone/'  she  said,  by  way  of  excuse  for 
a  first  visit.  "  Diana  isn't  a  bit  of  company  when  you 
feel  really  lonesome.  ]^zra  is  gone  for  four  days,  did 
you  know?  " 

Diana  had  cocked  one  ear  at  the  mention  of  her 
name,  but  had  speedily  uncocked  it  again  on  becom- 
ing satisfied  that  nothing  in  the  way  of  excitement 
was  at  hand. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  you  do  feel  lonely,"  said  Brother 
Green  slowly,  as  he  seated  himself  on  his  anvil  and 
crossed  his  brawny  arms.  "  I've  been  used  to  it  for  so 
long,  I  have  almost  forgotten  how  anything  else  feels." 

Olive  looked  kindly  at  him.  "  Are  you  ever  home- 
sick, and  do  you  ever  wish  you  had  stayed  in  Eng- 
land?   It  must  be  very  different  from  here." 

"  Very,"  said  Brother  Green  gazing  with  a  far- 
away sort  of  look  through  the  large  forge  door  out 
over  the  shimmering  prairie.  He  suddenly  seemed  to 
see  rolling  hills  with  oak  woods  tufting  their  slopes, 
and  a  deep  valley,  where  blue  curling  smoke  ascended 
in  high  spirals,  and  a  church  steeple  rose  from  among 
elms,  and  jackdaws  croaked  around  the  steeple.  He 
put  his  head  a  little  on  one  side,  almost  as  if  he  would 
catch  more  distinctly  the  hoarse  croak  of  the  jackdaws, 
or  maybe  the  first  sound  of  the  bell  which  hung  in 
the  steeple  and  used  to  ring  on  Sundays. 


192  PERFECTION  CITY. 

"  Yes/'  he  said,  as  tins  picture  faded  away  and 
the  prairie  returned  in  its  place,  "  there  can't  be  much 
greater  differences  in  the  world  than  between  Perfec- 
tion City  and  the  little  village  in  Sussex,  where  I  was 
born." 

"Which  do  you  like  best.  Brother  Green?"  asked 
Olive  a  little  thoughtlessly. 

"  I  don't  expect  ever  to  be  as  unhappy  again  as  I 
was  in  that  pretty  little  village,"  said  Brother  Green, 
and  Olive  remembered  that  she  had  been  told  he  had 
lost  a  young  wife  in  his  youth.  She  felt  sorry  for 
him,  and  regretted  having  touched  upon  an  old  wound 
that  still  could  throb  with  pain. 

"Have  you  heard  any  news  lately?  Has  anybody 
been  to  the  forge?  You  are  always  the  first  to  hear 
news,"  said  she  quickl}^,  desiring  to  change  the  sub- 
ject. 

"  A  man  from  down  south  passed  this  morning." 

"  Did  he  ?  "  said  Olive  anxiously,  "  what  did  he 
say?  " 

"  He  said  the  fire  was  just  bellowing  its  way  to- 
wards Fort  Scott,  and  had  done  a  good  deal  of  dam- 
age one  way  or  another.  It  was  one  of  the  hottest 
they  ever  had  and  the  hardest  to  stop.  It  crossed 
one  of  the  South  Fork  Creeks  and  got  into  the  broken 
land  round  Osage." 

"  We  had  a  very  narrow  escape  ourselves,"  said 
Olive,  feeling  remarkably  little  interest  in  the  fire. 
"Did  he  say  anything  else?     Who  was  he?" 


IN  QUEST  OF  NEWS.  193 

"  A  stranger,  I  never  saw  him  before.  No,  he 
didn^t  say  anything  else,  except  to  tell  me  that  he 
calkerlated  Britishers  were  mos'ly  fools  and  couldn't 
do  a  day's  work  'gain  'Mericans,  no  matter  what  it 
were,  rail-splitting  or  tobacco-chawin'." 

Brother  Green  gave  a  deep  gentle  laugh,  like  the 
distant  boom  of  a  waterfall  hidden  among  trees. 

"  Don't  you  think  these  prairie  folk  are  most  con- 
ceited ?  "  asked  Olive,  in  some  scorn. 

"  No,  not  more  than  other  people.  Sister,"  replied 
Brother  Green  somewhat  unexpectedly,  "  they  only 
say  what  they  think  with  remarkable  frankness." 

"  But  that  is  conceit,"  persisted  Olive. 

*'■  I  am  not  certain  that  it  is  more  conceited  to  say 
what  you  think,  than  to  think  your  thoughts  in  si- 
lence, and  be  consumed  with  a  vast  contempt  for  all 
the  world.    We  are  a  conceited  people  too." 

"  I  thought  the  English  prided  themselves  on  not 
being  conceited,"  said  Olive. 

"  We  pride  ourselves  on  showing  no  feeling  of 
conceit  and  if  possible  on  showing  no  feeling  on  any 
other  subject  either.  If  an  Englishman's  heart  were 
skinned,  I  think  it  would  weigh  up  pretty  much  the 
same  as  an  American's.  The  difference  lies  in  the 
tongue  only." 

"Is  that  so?"  said  Olive. 

"  Yes,  this  morning,  for  instance,  that  man  in- 
formed me  that  he  was  a  better  man  than  I,  and  that 
his  country  could  lick  mine.   -Well,  in  my  heart  I 


194:  PERFECTIO:;  CITY. 

knew  he  was  wrong  on  both  points,  and  that  the  pre- 
cise contrary  was  the  fact.  As  far  as  essentials  go,  I 
think  we  were  pretty  equal  in  the  contest  of  con- 
ceit'' 

"  But  you  didn't  tell  him  what  you  thought,"  re- 
marked Olive. 

"  No,  that  was  the  difference  of  tongue,  not  of 
heart,"  replied  Brother  Green. 

"  I  didn't  know  you  were  so  severe  in  your  criti- 
cisms and  judgments.  I  wonder  much  what  you  really 
think  of  Perfection  City,"  said  Olive,  looking  at  him 
curiously.  She  had  never  particularly  noticed  him 
hitherto,  and  had  not  realized  that  he  could  have  a 
store  of  knowledge  of  many  things  which  lay  far  out- 
side her  experience. 

"  I  think  Perfection  City  will  do  good "  said 
Brother  Green  with  conviction. 

"Do  you,  and  why?"  asked  Olive. 

"  Any  honest  human  effort  to  benefit  the  world 
and  raise  mankind  does  good,"  said  Brother  Green. 

"  But  people  have  done  such  different  things  and 
all  from  a  desire  to  do  what  seemed  to  them  good," 
objected  Olive  with  feminine  vagueness, 

"  I  consider  they  have  done  good  if  their  purpose 
was  single-hearted,"  maintained  Brother  Green. 

"  They  didn't  succeed  in  doing  what  they  aimed 
at  very  often,  at  all  events,"  observed  Olive,  "  some- 
thing quite  different  came  out  of  their  endeavours 
from  what  they  had  expected." 


IN  QUEST  OF  NEWS.  195 

"  Nevertheless,  if  they  honestly  tried,  then  that 
very  trying  was  of  itself  good." 

"  Do  you  think  Perfection  City  will  do  the  good 
the  Pioneers  expect,  or  will  something  quite  differ- 
ent come  out  of  it  too  ?  " 

"I  think  Perfection  City  will  be  the  means  of  * 
teaching  a  valuable  lesson,"  said  Brother  Green  cor- 
dially. 

"  Do  you  think  it  is  any  use  to  try  to  change  the 
world  and  its  ideas?" 

"  If  anyone  has  a  truth  let  him  preach  it  fearlessly. 
Who  can  foretell  the  moment  when  the  world  will 
listen  and  when  it  is  ready  to  profit  by  your  example." 

Olive  longed  to  ask  him  what  he  thought  of  Ma- 
dame, but  dared  not  do  so.  She  felt  a  little  afraid 
before  this  simple-minded  man,  with  his  fervent,  child- 
like faith  and  his  sad  and  lonely  life.  Belief  in  Per- 
fection City  might  be  his  only  comfort  now,  shut  off 
as  he  was  from  the  jo3^s  of  home  and  family,  she  would 
do  nothing  to  lessen  his  belief  and  make  him  more 
lonely  still.  For  what  is  more  lonely  than  the  heart 
out  of  which  a  faith  has  departed  never  to  return? 
So  she  bade  him  good-bye,  and  then  seeing  Aunt 
Ruby's  chimney  giving  off  the  cheerful  smoke  of  habi- 
tation, she  turned  her  steps  thither.  Olive  walked 
slowly  along,  for  it  was  very  hot  indeed  with  a  dry 
suffocating  heat  that  made  exertion  somewhat  irk- 
some, and  Diana,  the  discreet,  followed  dutifully  be- 
hind her. 


196  PERFECTION  CITY. 

Aunt  Ruby,  as  has  been  already  hinted,  had  sur- 
rounded herself  with  a  large  family  of  chickens  of 
all  ages,  to  whose  wants  it  was  her  great  duty  to  at- 
tend. She  had  a  rare  hand  for  chickens,  and  could 
pick  up  the  most  spasmodic  specimen  and  turn  it  up- 
side down  and  examine  it  for  the  gapes  without  hurt- 
ing it  in  the  least.  Her  driving  of  the  hens  to  roost 
was  an  exhibition  of  the  talent  of  generalship  worthy 
of  a  wider  field.  No  screamings  nor  scurryings,  no 
rushings  madly  hither  and  thither,  took  place,  and 
.above  all  no  sticks  were  used  in  the  ceremony:  Aunt 
Ruby  merely  took  her  skirts  gently  at  the  side  in  each 
hand,  and  said  "  Shoo!  Shoo!  '^  in  a  soothing  voice, 
while  at  the  same  time  she  slightly  oscillated  the  folds 
of  her  skirt.  The  hens  appeared  hypnotized  by  the 
action,  and  no  matter  how  eagerly  they  might  be  pur- 
suing the  afternoon  fly,  they  would  at  once  settle 
down  into  a  conversational  chuck-a-chu  and  begin 
forthwith  to  meander  towards  the  hen-roost. 

Aunt  Ruby's  numerous  hens  and  chickens  were  all 
in  the  yard  and  around  the  wood-pile,  seeking  in  an 
aimless  over-fed  fashion  after  chance  insects,  when 
suddenly,  without  a  moment's  warning,  the  devil  was 
upon  them  according  to  the  gallinaceous  imagination. 
The  devil  was  possessed  of  four  paws,  a  most  terrifying 
bark,  and  a  mouth  that  seemed  to  the  affrighted  birds 
to  be  on  the  point  of  devouring  each  one  especially 
and  individually.  The  dog  flew  hither  and  thither,  and 
so  did  the  chickens,  and  so  did  the  tail  feathers.- 


IN  QUEST  OF  NEWS.  197 

"  Diana!  Bad  dog,  down,  down!  "  screamed  Olive, 
rushing  to  the  rescue,  while  Aunt  Ruby  with  shrill 
cry  and  a  broom-stick  appeared  in  the  door-w^ay. 
Xever  before  or  since  did  a  more  tempestuous  guest 
appear  at  Aunt  Kuby's  house.  Full  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  of  gentle  "  shoo-shooings "  to  the  hens,  inter- 
spersed with  smart  wliippings  to  Diana,  elapsed  before 
quiet  was  restored,  and  the  ladies  could  even  begin 
their  visit  together.  Even  then  there  was  a  sort  of 
nervous  tension  on  Aunt  Euby's  part,  which  pre- 
vented her  thorough  enjoyment  of  the  opportunity  for 
a  gossip.  Her  attention  was  distracted  by  Diana,  who 
lay  with  lamb-like  docility  at  Olive's  feet  and  slept 
the  sleep  of  the  just. 

"  I  wouldn't  keep  a  dawg  roun'  nohow,"  said  Aunt 
Ruby  eyeing  the  delinquent  sternly.  "  I'd  mos'  as  lief 
hev  a  rattlesnake.  I  shouldn't  never  sleep  easy  in 
my  bed  won'erin'  an'  won'erin'  what  the  pesky  crittur 
'ud  do  nex'." 

"  I  know  that  Diana  is  very  naughty  now,  but  she 
is  only  a  puppy,  and  she'll  get  sense  by  and  bye,  and 
it  is  so  nice  to  have  something  that  is  your  own  and 
loves  you,  and  doesn't  care  for  any  body  else,  you 
know,"  observed  Olive  somewhat  rashly. 

"  Wal,  I  reckon  you'll  hev  a  sight  o'  trouble  'long 
o'  that  dawg  'fore  you  learn  it  the  rights  o'  people, 
let  alone  teachin'  it  community  idees,"  said  Aunt 
Ruby. 

*^  No,  you  can't  teach  a  dog  communistic  notions, 


198  PERFECTION  CITY. 

thank  goodnesi/'  observed  Olive,  patting  the  sinful 
Diana. 

"  Eeckon  you  ain't  partic'ler  sot  on  the  idees  of 
Perfection  City,"  said  the  old  lady,  looking  at  her 
visitor  with  bright  twinkling  eyes.  "  I  allow  there 
be  a  p'int  or  two  we'll  hev  to  consider  over  agin  at 
'Sembly.  We  are  gettin'  on  too  fas'  fur  this  here 
prairie  folk,  they  hain't  got  the  sense  to  un'erstan' 
all  o'  our  highest  principles.  Guess  while  there's  In- 
juns roun'  we  hed  better  jes'  hoi'  back  a  mite  'bout 
non-resistance.'^ 

"  Oh,"  said  Olive,  who  had  never  given  any  atten- 
tion to  this  point,  being  as  indifferent  as  the  wives  of 
strong  men  usually  are.  "  I  never  heard  a  word  about 
Indians.    Are  there  any  about?  " 

"  Not  as  I  hearn  on  special.  But  there's  Injuns 
and  worse  nor  Injuns  in  the  world,  an'  I  reckon  we'd 
better  take  that  p'int  up  at  'Sembly  and  see  if  we 
can't  do  su'thin'  to  make  things  a  bit  straight,"  said 
Aunt  Ruby  in  language  that  was  vaguely  enough  ex- 
pressed to  serve  in  the  highest  walks  of  diplomacy. 

"  Oh,  I  dare  say,"  replied  Olive  carelessly,  "  some 
very  excellent  reason  could  be  devised  to  excuse  a 
departure  from  any  one  of  the  Perfection  City  prin- 
ciples, which  seem  more  difficult  to  manage  in  prac- 
tice than  on  paper.  They  are  all  pretty  new,  and  of 
bourse  can't  be  expected  to  be  as  useful  in  all  the 
difficult  circumstances  of  life  as  principles  which  have 
stood  the  test  of  time." 


IN  QUEST  OF  NEWS.  199 

"  Dear  me,  siiz!  "  exclaimed  Aunt  Ruby  admiringly. 
"  How  gran'  you  kin  talk!  Deal  sight  finer  nor  Broth- 
er Wright.  Why  don't  you  hold  forth  in  'Sembly? 
I'd  liefer  hear  you  nor  any  on  'em.  I'm  jes'  'bout  tired 
o'  listenin'  to  Brother  Wright.  Lard!  how  he  do  love 
to  hear  his  own  voice!  Hens  is  jes'  like  that  too,  they'll 
talk  an'  talk  till  you're  mos'  crazy,  an'  they  hain't 
nothin'  to  say,  on'y  jes'  to  cackle  an'  hear  themselves 
talk." 

Olive  agreed  with  Aunt  Ruby,  but  hardly  dared  to 
express  her  opinion  in  all  its  force.  Therefore  she 
turned  the  conversation  by  inquiring  had  she  ever 
heard  anything  about  lynch-law  and  about  its  being 
put  into  practice  in  their  neighbourhood? 

"  Course  I  hev,  an'  hearn  o'  hangin'  too." 

"  Do  Perfection  City  principles  uphold  hanging?  " 
asked  Olive. 

"  Guess  not,"  was  the  reply. 

"No  matter  if  it  was  for  murder?" 

"  Wal,  I  don't  see  as  we  could  ever  be  called  upon 
to  settle  that  p'int,  'cause  no  'Fectionist  could  ever  be 
a  murderer  no  how,"  said  Aunt  Ruby. 

"  But  suppose  an  outsider  who  had  shot  a  man,  even 
if  it  was  not  a  real  bad  murder,  came  to  us  for  protec- 
tion, would  they  help  him,  do  you  think?"  asked 
Ohve. 

"  Wal,  I  never  hearn  that  debated  at  the  'Sembly, 
but  I  reckon  Perfection  City  don't  lay  out  to  hide 
folks  as  has  killed  a  feller  critter.    It  don't  'pear  to 


200  PERFECTION  CITY. 

me  as  how  we  was  called  upon  to  min'  anyone  'cept 
our  own  selves,  an'  we  hed  best  keep  clear  'way  o' 
them  sort  o'  folks.  That's  pretty  nigh  my  'pinion, 
an'  I  guess  it's  mos'  folks  too  as  hes  a  mite  o'  common 
sense." 

Olive  was  fain  to  confess  to  herself  that  in  all 
probability  Aunt  Ruby  did  fairly  express  the  collective 
opinion  of  Perfection  City.  They  had  only  enough 
righteousness  for  themselves,  and,  like  a  ship  already 
short  of  provisions,  could  not  help  another  vessel,  even 
though  it  might  be  flying  the  Union  Jack  upside  down 
and  showing  all  the  other  flags  of  acute  distress  recog- 
nized in  the  naval  code  of  signals.  Had  Aunt  Ruby 
heard  of  anything  concerning  a  horse-thief  who  was 
supposed  to  be  somewhere  around,  inquired  Olive  with 
a  view  to*  eliciting  information,  but  she  only  elicited 
feminine  alarms  in  overwhelming  abundance. 

"Do  tell!  Land  o' liberty!  Was  there  horse- thieves 
'bout?  What  a  pity  Brother  Ezry  an'  Brother  Dummy 
was  both  gone  jes'  now:  they  might  meet  in  'Sembly 
right  away  an'  discuss  the  p'int  o'  non-resistance  an' 
buy  revolvers  next  time  anyone  went  to  Union  Mills. 
Horse-thieves  was  mos'  as  bad  as  Injuns,  an'  if  it  was 
lawful  an'  right  to  defen'  yourself  'gainst  Injuns  as 
was  ign'rant  savages  as  never  hed  Christian  teachin', 
it  couldn't  be  wrong  to  look  a'ter  your  bosses  as  was 
bought  an'  paid  for  by  Tection  City  money." 

Aunt  Ruby  was  so  convinced  and  loquacious  upon 
this  subject  and  upon  the  aspect  of  the  case  as  presented 


IN  QUEST  OF  NEWS.  201 

to  her  mind  by  her  terrors,  that  Olive  heartily  regretted 
her  question,  and  began  to  try  and  do  away  with  the 
effects  of  it  as  far  as  possible.  It  was  only  a  vague 
report  she  averred,  and  Olive  herself  had  not  the 
slightest  idea  that  there  were  horse-thieves  about. 
Upon  the  strength  of  this  assurance  Aunt  Ruby,  some- 
what comforted,  allowed  her  attention  to  be  engaged 
by  other  topics  of  conversation.  She  was  much  dis- 
tressed that  she  could  not  persuade  her  visitor  to  stay 
all  the  rest  of  the  day  and  have  a  real  good  soul-satis- 
fying talk,  but  Olive  declared  she  must  go  home  and 
see  to  her  own  chickens,  an  argument  that  appealed 
very  strongly  to  Aunt  Euby's  maternal  instincts. 

A  difficulty  arose  as  to  how  Diana  was  to  be  decently 
conducted  out  through  the  yard. 

"I'd  mos'  as  soon  hev  to  conten'  with  a  roarin' 
lion  as  that  pup,"  remarked  Aunt  Ruby  as  the  diffi- 
culty presented  itself  to  her  mind  in  an  acute  form. 

"  If  I  could  get  her  past  without  seeing  the  hens 
and  chickens  she  would  be  all  right,"  said  Olive,  who 
of  course  had  no  whip,  regarding  meditatively  the 
dog,  who  of  course  had  no  collar. 

"Wal,  that  'ud  do,  I  guess,  sort  o'  take  her  out 
o'  the  way  o'  temptation,"  said  Aunt  Ruby,  surveying 
Diana  with  an  anxious  eye.  "  I  kin  give  you  an  ole 
caliker  skirt  o'  mine,  an'  you  kin  tie  up  her  head  in 
that  reg'lar  tight,  so  as  she  wouldn't  see  ne'er  a  hen 
this  side  o'  Christmas,  'less  you  took  it  off." 

This  seemed  a  hopeful  arrangement;  so  the  "  call- 


202  PERFECTION  CITY. 

ker  skirt "  was  brought,  and  the  misguided  Diana, 
under  the  impression  that  a  brand  new  game  was  on 
foot,  allowed  her  head  to  be  hidden  in  the  folds  of  the 
skirt.  Olive  then  led  her  to  the  door,  but  Diana  ob- 
jected, not  seeing  where  the  joke  came  in  for  her; 
and  as  soon  as  she  found  that  she  was  ignominiously 
tied  into  the  dreadful  skirt,  her  rage  was  boundless. 
In  an  instant  she  wrenched  herself  free  from  Olive's 
guiding  hand.  She  then  commenced  a  wild  career 
around  the  yard  backwards,  swaying  this  way  and  that 
in  the  most  ghastly  and  unlooked-for  manner. 

The  hens  and  chickens  no  sooner  beheld  this  por- 
tent than  with  one  universal  squawk  of  horror  they 
betook  themselves  to  places  of  safety  under  the  corn- 
crib  and  into  the  cracks  of  the  wood-pile,  whence  they 
could  not  again  be  coaxed  for  many  hours.  Diana 
meanwhile  continued  her  fearsome  course  and  ere 
long  came  into  violent  contact  with  the  chicken-tub, 
a  large  receptacle  with  loose  wooden  cover  where  vari- 
ous sorts  of  food  suitable  for  fowls  were  collected  to- 
gether, first  thinned  with  water  and  then  thickened 
into  a  glutinous  mass  by  intermixture  of  corn-meal. 
Into  this  tub  Diana  sat  with  extreme  violence  and  then 
rolled  over.  Olive  caught  her  as  she  was  emerging 
from  the  chicken-tub  and  by  uncovering  her  eyes  re- 
stored her  to  reason.  Aunt  Ruby,  speechless  with  in- 
dignation, and  Olive,  equally  speechless  with  laughter, 
then  set  to  work  with  two  big  spoons  to  scrape  the 
chicken  food  from  the  ground  and  from  the  hind 


IN  QUEST  OF  NEWS.  203 

quarters  of  the  dog.  Diana,  now  at  peace  with  all  the 
world,  wagged  her  tail  benevolently  during  this  pro- 
cess, and  soon  specked  Olive  over  with  corn-meal,  pota- 
toes, scraps  of  peelings,  and  bits  of  greens,  until  she 
looked  as  if  she  had  been  out  in  a  snow-storm  as  severe 
in  character  as  it  was  diversified  in  composition.  When 
this  job  was  over  Aunt  Euby  arose  and  straightened 
her  old  back  with  a  groan. 

"  Wal,  I  guess  I  would  a  deal  sight  sooner  hev  a 
rattlesnake  to  look  a'ter  than  a  dawg,"  she  observed. 

Olive,  apologetic,  departed  along  with  the  un- 
repentant Diana,  and  together  they  returned  home- 
wards. 


14 


CHAPTEE  XVI. 


HORSE    THIEVES. 


Olive  spent  a  few  quiet  hours  at  home  along  with 
Diana,  and  then  took  supper  in  company  with  Na- 
poleon Pompey,  whose  manners  at  table  were  now 
all  that  could  be  desired.  Indeed,  the  negro  in  this 
connection  easily  takes  a  higher  polish  than  might 
be  expected:  he  prides  himself  on  being  punctilious 
in  all  the  forms  and  phrases  of  the  best  white  society 
he  has  ever  come  in  contact  with,  and  being  highly 
imitative,  is  quickly  trained.  Given  a  white  boy  and 
a  black  boy  of  similar  ages  and  depths  of  ignorance, 
the  black  one  will  more  quickly  tame  into  a  seemingly 
quiet  human  being,  while  very  frequently  the  same 
vanity  which  prompts  a  negro  to  be  over-zealous  in  the 
use  of  "  please "  and  "  thank  you "  will  cause  the 
white  boy  to  act  roughly  and  assert  his  independence 
by  extravagances  of  rude  behaviour.  Napoleon  Pom- 
pey  was  magnificently  polite  to  "  Mis'  Ollie,"  whom  he 
adored,  and  for  whom  he  was  ready  even  to  work:  that 
is  to  make  the  greatest  sacrifice  possible  to  a  negro  lad 
of  twelve.    He  never  forgot  to  carry  in  wood  for  her 

204 


HORSE  THIEVES.  205 

or  to  pick  up  chips  in  generous  quantity  for  the 
hghting  of  the  afternoon  fire,  and  he  collected  abun- 
dance of  corn-cobs  and  had  them  duly  dried  in  the  sun 
ready  at  her  hand  in  case  she  was  in  sudden  want  of 
a  hot  fire.  When  working  for  Ezra,  Napoleon  Pompey 
reverted  to  his  natural  black  standard  of  diligence 
and  shirked  as  much  as  he  possibly  could,  lying  down 
in  fence-corners  to  sleep  like  a  shiny  black  lizard  when 
he  should  have  been  stripping  corn,  but  he  never 
shirked  "Mis'  OlUe's "  work.  She  didn't  scold  the 
lad,  but  ruled  him  by  her  gentleness  and  her  beauty, 
and  he  fell  into  meekest  subjection  to  her. 

Olive  always  tried  to  talk  with  Napoleon  Pompey 
at  meals,  even  when  Ezra  was  there,  being  anxious 
to  make  him  feel  at  his  ease  and  happy  in  their  pres- 
ence; and  to-day  being  alone  with  him  she  thought 
she  might  get  some  information  out  of  him  on  the 
subject  which  was  weighing  so  heavily  upon  her  mind. 

^'  Napoleon  Pompey,  did  you  ever  hear  of  their 
hunting  down  men  on  the  prairie  here?" 

"  Yo'  bet.  Mis'  Ollie,  I  seed  darkie  what  went  to 
de  hangin'  ole  man  Howard.  He  done  seed  him 
hoisted  over  de  tree  slap  up.     He  told  me " 

"  Hush!  "  said  Olive  sternly. 

The  young  savage  was  abashed,  he  had  meant  no 
harm,  but  thouglit  some  pleasing  details  "  o'  de  hang- 
in',"  which  he  himself  had  relished  mightily,  would 
prove  equally  acceptable  to  Olive's  taste.  She  was 
disgusted  to  think  that  with  all  her  teaching  of  the 


206  PERFECTION  CITY. 

forms  and  symbols  of  politeness  and  gentle  manners, 
which  the  young  scamp  had  received  with  such  docility, 
she  had  not  really  touched  his  heart  at  all:  he  was 
just  a  black  savage,  still  rejoicing  in  vivid  details  of 
horrors  and  cruelty. 

"  Don't  tell  me,"  she  said  sternly,  "  that  it  is  pos- 
sible you  could  like  to  see  a  human  being,  a  fellow 
creature,  made  in  God's  image,  no  matter  how  guilty 
he  might  be,  put  to  death.  It  may  be  necessary, 
Napoleon  Pompey,  sometimes  to  hang  men  who  have 
done  wicked  things,  so  as  to  prevent  others  from  doing 
the  same,  but  it  is  an  awful  thing,  a  sad  and  terrible 
sight.  You  would  never  wish  to  see  it.  Napoleon  Pom- 
pey," said  Olive  solemnly. 

"  It  'ud  be  bully  ter  see  'um  kickin'  in  de  air 
wid  rope  roun'  his  neck,"  said  Napoleon  Pompey 
simply. 

Olive  turned  white  with  disgust  and  left  the 
kitchen,  retiring  with  Diana  to  her  own  little  private 
room.  Napoleon  Pompey,  conscious  of  no  short- 
comings, cleared  away  the  supper  things  very  handily, 
washed  the  few  dishes,  set  the  candles  upon  the  white 
deal  table,  and  whistling  in  the  innocence  of  his 
youthful  heart  went  out  to  "  walk  roun' "  and  see 
that  all  was  right,  and  the  hen-house  fastened  up  se- 
curely against  possible  visits  from  pole-cats,  before 
he  retired  to  his  loft  upstairs  shortly  after  sun-down. 
Like  the  chickens.  Napoleon  Pompey  went  early  to 
roost. 


HORSE  THIEVES.  207 

Conscious  from  the  all-pervading  stillness  that  the 
lad  was  gone  to  bed,  Ollie  returned  to  the  kitchen, 
and  her  heart  smote  her  as  she  saw  two  tallow  candles 
in  their  tin  candle-sticks  placed  on  the  table  in  con- 
venient position  for  her  to  read,  if  such  should  be  her 
wish.     Poor  Napoleon  Pompey!     Olive  thought  com- 
passionately of  what  an  affectionate  boy  he  was,  and 
of  how  it  was  not  his  fault  if  he  still  had  savage 
tastes.     Indeed,  it  was  rather  the  fault  of  everybody 
else.    His  not  very  remote  ancestors  were  unreclaimed 
African  savages,   and  the   career  of  those  more  im- 
mediate forefathers,  whose  lot  had  been  cast  in  slavery 
.down  South,  had  not  had  an  elevating  tendency.     It 
was  wonderful,  not  that  he  still  had  savage  tastes,  but 
that  he  had  got  rid  of  so  many  of  them.     She  was 
sorry  that  she  had  not  been  better  able  to  control  her 
feelings,  and  determined  forthwith  to  institute  a  care- 
ful system  of  training  with  a  view  to  leading  him  to 
the  higher  life  by  the  shortest  possible  road.      Having 
settled  in  her  own  mind  a  few  of  the  more  important 
lines  upon  which  this  training  was  to  be  conducted, 
Olive  turned  at  last  to  her  reading.     But  she  could 
not  keep  her  mind  on  her  book,  it  kept  wandering 
off  in  all  sorts  of  directions,  and  at  last  took  that 
of  being  frightened  at  the  loneliness  and  stillness  of 
the  house.      When   so  firmly   combating  the   notion 
of  being  afraid  to  stay  in  the  house   during  Ezra's 
absence,   Olive  had   not   realized  how   appalling  the 
stillness  would  be.    In  the  daytime  there  were  multi- 


208  PERFECTION  CITY. 

tudes  af  unregarded  sounds,  which  went  to  make  up 
the  sum  total  of  the  idea  of  life  and  fellowship,  but 
at  night  these  had  completely  ceased,  and  she  seemed 
to  hear  the  stillness  with  awful  intensity. 

Then,  too  there  were  no  shutters  to  the  windows, 
which  were,  of  course,  open  to  let  in  the  cool  night 
air,  and  the  thought  suddenly  came  into  Olive's  mind 
of  how  exposed  she  really  was,  sitting  there  in  the 
light  of  her  candles,  plainly  to  be  seen,  but  unable 
to  see  out.     A  thought  such  as  this  needs  but  little 
time  to  grow  into  a  veritable  feeling  of  panic.     She 
glanced  at  the  black  gaping  windows  and  stared  out 
into  the  measureless  blackness  beyond.     At  one  mo- 
ment she  raised  her  hand  to  extinguish  the  candles 
and  so  to  hide  herself  in  the  dark  along  with  her  fears, 
but  she  knew  that  would  only  make  matters  worse. 
She  would  see  in  her  terrified  imagination  a  hundred 
glaring  eyes  peering  in  through  the  window.      She 
got  up  and  walked  about  the  room,  trying  by  a  little 
movement  to  throw  off  the  oppressive  sense  of  terror. 
Diana  suddenly  seemed  to  be  interested  in  something, 
and  raised  her  head  and  sniffed  inquiringly,  and  her 
mistress,   nervously   awake   to   every   sight   or   sound, 
looked  anxiously  around  her  and  stopped  in  her  un- 
easy walk.     Diana  arose  and  went  to  the  door,  and 
being  a  puppy  wagged  her  tail  effusively,  then  sud- 
denly remembering  that  she  ought  to  be  a  dog,  barked 
with  vehemence.      Olive  was  ready  to   scream  with 
nervous  terror  as  she  heard  a  step  upon  the  slanting 


HORSE  THIEVES.  209 

board  which  led  up  to  the  door  and  a  second  later 
a  knock  against  the  resounding  wood.  She  stood 
spell-bound,  unable  to  speak  or  move.  Diana  ceased 
barldng,  and  looked  with  eager  delight  for  the  open- 
ing of  the  door. 

"  It  is  I,  friends,  let  me  come  in/'  said  a  deep 
voice  which  thrilled  Olive  to  the  heart. 

The  door  opened  and  Mr.  Cotterell  entered. 

"Mr.  Cotterell!  What  are  you  here  for?"  gasped 
Olive,  as  he  came  in  and  stood  in  the  light,  gaunt- 
eyed  and  hollow-cheeked. 

"  I  am  flying  for  my  life,  Mrs.  Weston.  The  men 
are  out  hunting  me  down.  I  have  come  to  ask  your 
help.     Where  is  your  husband  ?  " 

"  He  is  gone  away  to  Mapleton." 

^^Ah!"  said  Cotterell,  with  a  sigh  that  had  some 
relief  in  the  sound.  "  Then  you  will  help  me,  won't 
you?  " 

"  What  have  you  done  ?  "  asked  Olive,  gazing  at 
him  in  terror.  He  was  wild-looking  and  so  different 
from  the  charming  gentleman  she  had  known  be- 
fore. 

"  I've  shot  Jake  Mills,"  he  replied,  without  any 
attempt  at  dissimulation. 

"Do  you  mean  that  you've  murdered  him?" 
gasped  Olive,  starting  back  from  him. 

"  Good  God!  Mrs  Weston,  no.  I've  not  mur- 
dered him,  although  he  is  dead  by  my  hand.  There's 
been  a  quarrel  between  us  about  some  land  he  rented 


210  PERFECTION  CITY. 

from  me.  He  was  a  very  low-bred  fellow  and  violent, 
and  I  despised  him,  and — well,  I  said  some  harsh 
things  to  him  about  cheating  the  last  time  we  met. 
He  swore  that  he  would  pay  me  out.  He  came  to 
my  cabin  the  other  day.  I  don^t  know  how  long 
ago,  it  seems  a  life- time.  He  was  mad  with  drink 
and  fury.  I  told  him  he  was  a  hound.  He  whipped 
out  his  revolver  and  fired  at  me,  but  he  was  too  tipsy 
to  aim  straight,  his  shots  went  wide  of  the  mark.  Well, 
I  got  my  shot  in,  I  was  not  drunk.  That  is  how  it  was, 
Mrs.  Weston.  Upon  my  honour  as  a  man,  that  is  the 
exact  truth.  You  would  not  call  it  ^urder,  would 
you?'^ 

"  No,  it  was  in  self-defence.  But  why  didn't  you 
go  and  tell  the  neighbours  at  once?  They  under- 
stand that  sort  of  thing  on  the  prairie." 

"  Ah,  there's  just  my  hard  luck.  There  was  a 
brute  of  a  negro  who  saw  it  all,  a  fellow  I  thrashed 
once  for  stealing  and  lying,  and  he  said  with  such 
a  meaning  look,  niggers  were  free  men  now,  they 
could  give  evidence  against  white  men  now,"  said 
Cotterell  in  a  voice  of  despair. 

"Could  not  you  silence  him?"  said  Olive,  "or 
make  him  tell  the  truth?  " 

"  Yes,  I  could  have  silenced  him  easily  enough, 
and  I  had  my  finger  on  the  trigger  to  do  it.  But 
I  sickened  at  the  thought.  I  couldn't  shoot  him, 
although  it  was  my  life  against  his  in  all  probability. 
I  fled  and  he  gave  the  alarm.    I  have  no  chance  with 


HORSE  THIEVES.  211 

these  men  around  here  to  try  me,  and  that  negro 
to  give  his  lying  version  of  the  fight.  If  it  was  a  jury 
of  men  like  your  husband,  it  would  be  different,  but 
these  ignorant  settlers  are  desperately  prejudiced 
against  me  already  as  a  foreigner,  and  because  of  sev- 
eral things  in  the  past." 

Olive  thought  of  what  her  husband  had  said,  and 
knew  only  too  well  that  there  was  indeed  much  preju- 
dice against  the  unhappy  fugitive. 

"  What  am  I  to  do  ?  You  cannot  stay  here,  Mr. 
Cotterell.  They  have  already  been  looking  for  you. 
Mr.  Owen  was.  here  yesterday  afternoon." 

"  Did  he  tell  you  what  I  had  done?  Did  he  seem 
to  consider  it  murder?  " 

"  Yes,  he  did,"  said  Olive  in  a  whisper,  not  daring 
to  remember  what  he  had  said  should  be  Cotterell's 
punishment. 

"  But  you  don't  look  upon  it  in  that  light  ?  "  said 
he,  wistfully. 

"  N"o,  certainly  not.  It  was  a  terrible  misfortune 
that  might  happen  to  anybody,  given  the  preliminary 
quarrel." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Cotterell  brokenly.  "  When 
a  poor  devil  is  being  hunted  down  it  is  a  comfort 
for  him  to  find  someone  who  can  still  believe  in 
him,  and  I  knew  in  my  heart  I  could  come  to  you 
for  help  when  all  else  had  abandoned  me.  I  am 
starving,  Mrs.  Weston.  I  have  eaten  nothing  for  two 
days.    Can  you  give  me  some  food  ?  " 


212  PERFECTION  CITY. 

"  Poor  fello^v!  "  cried  Olive,  more  struck  perhaps 
by  his  bodily  needs  than  by  those  of  the  mind.  "  Sit 
down  here,  I'll  get  you  something  in  a  jiffy.  There 
is  a  good  chicken-pie  in  the  cellar." 

She  took  a  lantern  and  hurried  off  to  the  cellar 
which  was  under  the  house,  but  to  which  entrance 
was  effected  by  an  outside  door.  She  brought  him 
food  and  drink  and  sat  by  him  as  he  ate  ravenously, 
wolfishly. 

"  I  must  sleep  or  I  shall  never  be  able  to  hold 
out  for  the  flight  to-morrow.  Let  me  lie  here,  will 
you,  and  wake  me  at  mid-night.  Will  you  do  that 
for  me?  I  must  sleep.  I  have  been  hiding  in  the 
bottom-land  of  Cotton  Wood  Creek  in  the  brush- 
wood ever  since  I  left  home.  I  didn't  dare  to  ride 
across  the  prairie  with  everybody  out  on  account  of 
the  fire.  I  should  have  been  seen  by  someone,  even 
if  I  could  have  got  clear  of  the  fire.  The  hunt  must 
be  over  now  on  this  side  of  the  county,  and  I  may 
dare  snatch  a  little  sleep." 

He  flung  himself  down  on  the  floor,  and  almost 
before  Olive  could  fetch  a  pillow  for  his  head  he 
was  in  a  deep  sleep.  She  sat  watching  him  and  won- 
dering what  his  life  was.  Somewhere  away  in  Eng- 
land, perhaps,  there  was  a  blue-eyed  girl  waiting  for 
him  to  come  home,  a  girl  whose  blue  eyes  were  get- 
ting dim  with  the  tears  she  shed  in  that  long  long 
waiting.  He  was  a  very  handsome  man,  with  his  yellow 
moustache  and  clear-cut  features.     His  hat  was  off. 


HORSE  THIEVES.  213 

leaving  a  sort  of  high-water  mark  plainly  visible  on 
his  forehead,  where  the  sun-burn  ended  and  the 
smooth  white  skin  showed  upon  his  temples.  The 
veins  were  marked  in  blue  like  a  baby's,  she  remem- 
bered how  Ezra  had  commented  on  these  blue  veins. 
She  wondered  who  he  was  and  why  he  came  there  to 
live,  and  all  the  while  she  watched  the  slow  rise  and 
fall  of  his  chest  as  he  breathed  in  his  sleep  with  his 
right  hand  nervelessly  holding  his  revolver.  How  he 
would  start  up  and  grip  that  weapon,  and  how  his 
blue  eyes  would  flash,  if  his  pursuers  should  come 
upon  him!  He  was  a  man  that  had  a  reputation  for 
bravery  even  on  the  prairie,  where  few  men  were 
cowards.  She  thought  of  Prince  Charlie  and  his 
wanderings,  and  all  the  stories  she  had  read  as  a  girl 
about  that  charming  prince.  Here  was  a  fugitive 
seeking  her  aid,  and  she — well,  she  would  act  the 
part  of  Flora  Macdonald.  By  the  time  it  was  mid- 
night, Olive  had  worked  herself  into  a  most  roijiantic 
frame  of  mind  and  was  determined  to  help  Mr. 
Cotterell  at  every  hazard.  She  was  not  a  person 
to  do  a  thing  by  halves.  She  made  a  parcel  of 
food  for  him  out  of  the  remains  of  the  chicken- 
pie,  and  then,  it  being  just  midnight,  she  awoke 
him. 

"  Ah,  Mrs.  Weston,  how  can  I  ever  show  my  grati- 
tude to  you?  You  are  in  veriest  truth  my  guardian 
angel.  I  shall  carry  your  image  in  my  heart  till  T 
die,"  said  Cotterell  in  his  soft  persuasive  voice.     "  I 


214  PERFECTION  CITY. 

should  like  to  think  that  you  had  some  memory  of 


me." 


"  I  shall  not  forget  you,  and  shall  pray  that  you 
may  escape  all  dangers,"  said  Olive  gently. 

'^  I  have  absolutely  nothing  that  I  can  call  my 
own.  Would  you  accept  this  ring  of  mine  as  a  token 
of  my  gratitude,  and  sometimes  wear  it  in  memory 
of  me?  When  you  look  at  it,  think  that  somewhere 
in  this  weary  world  there  is  one  heart  that  will  be 
grateful  to  you  until  it  ceases  to  beat." 

He  pulled  a  ring  from  his  finger  and  put  it  into  her 
hand.  At  the  same  time  he  stooped  his  tall  form  and 
softly  kissed  her  forehead,  saying:   "  God  bless  you!  " 

Olive's  eyes  were  full  of  tears.  "  You  must  be 
going  or  it  will  be  too  late,"  she  said  with  a  sob. 

^'  Yes,  I  must  not  tarry."  He  looked  to  his  re- 
volver, jerked  his  cartridge-case  round  into  a  more 
convenient  position  for  rapidly  opening  it,  and  took 
up  his  hat. 

"Where  is  your  horse?" 

"  I  hitched  him  to  the  bars." 

"  Then  I  will  take  the  lantern  and  light  you  on 
your  way.  The  night  is  very  dark.  Once  on  horse- 
back you  can  ride  by  the  light  of  the  stars,"  said 
Olive. 

"  Yes,  I'll  shape  my  course  for  the  Missouri  border, 
if  I  can  run  the  gauntlet  of  the  people  here.  Once 
I  reach  a  town  and  civilization  I  shall  be  all  right." 

They  went  to  the  bars,  Olive  holding  her  little 


HORSE  THIEVES.  215 

lantern   which   threw   a   feeble   ray   along   the   path- 
way. 

"  Great  God!  "  cried  Cotterell. 

"Oh,  what  is  it?  Are  they  coming  after  you?" 
said  Olive  in  alarm,  dropping  her  lantern  which  in- 
stantly went  out. 

"My  horse  is  gone!"  said  Cotterell,  whose  eyes 
were  now  becoming  accustomed  to  the  darkness.  '^  I 
left  him  hitched  here.  He  was  a  wild  young  colt, 
not  half  broken.  See,  this  is  the  lariat-rope  wrenched 
in  two.  I  was  a  fool  to  trust  to  that  rope,  and  a  double- 
dyed  fool  to  leave  him  here  in  the  dark.  But  I  was 
too  hungry  and  too  sleepy  to  think  clearly  of  what 
I  was  doing.  That  sleep  will  cost  me  my  life.  I 
shall  have  plenty  of  time  to  sleep,  aye  forever,  if  day- 
light catches  me  here.  Mrs.  Weston  will  you  add  one 
more  benefit  to  the  many  that  have  gone  before? 
Will  you  give  me  a  horse?  " 

"  Oh,  so  gladly  if  I  had  one,"  said  Olive,  begin- 
ning to  cry  with  grief  and  helplessness. 

"  Haven't  you  any  horses?  "  asked  Cotterell  with 
a  gasp. 

"  No.  Ezra  and  Brother  Huntley  have  taken  two 
teams  to  Mapleton." 

Are  there  no  more  about  the  place?  " 
Only   our   two   that    were    out    on    the    prairie. 
Brother  Wright  was  to  hunt  for  them." 

"Did  he  find  them?" 

"  I  don't  know.    Perhaps  he  did." 


(C 


216  PERFECTION  CITY. 

"  Then  you  must  give  me  one  of  tliem.  They 
are  yours." 

"  They  are  not  mine.  Oh,  I  have  not  anything 
in  this  dreadful  Community.  It  is  horrible,"  wailed 
Olive. 

"  Don't,  pray  don't,"  said  Cotterell  feeling  for  her 
hand  in  the  darkness  and  crushing  it  in  a  passionate 
grasp.    "  Come  with  me  and  help  me  get  one." 

"What!    steal  one  of  our  horses?" 

"  Yes,  God  help  me!  if  that  must  be  the  word. 
If  I  live,  the  Community  shall  have  the  horse's  price 
ten  times  over.  If  I  am  hanged,  put  it  down  for 
the  Recording  Angel's  tears.     Come." 

"  The  horses  are  not  here.  They  are  at  Brother 
Wright's  if  anywhere." 

"Can  you  find  the  way  in  the  dark?  Then  come 
all  the  same." 

He  held  her  hand.  Was  it  for  fear  lest  she  should 
turn  back,  or  was  it  for  some  other  reason?  They 
walked  in  silence  towards  the  Wrights'  house,  two 
dark  shadows  stealing  through  the  blackness. 

"Mr.  Cotterell,"  whispered  Olive  with  chattering 
teeth.  "  If  anyone  should  come  out  of  the  house 
on  account  of  the  noise,  don't  fire.  We  are  all  non- 
resistants,  you  know,  here,  and  he  won't  have  a  pistol." 
Olive  had  no  knowledge  of  the  plenary  indulgence 
which  Brother  Wright  had  seen  fit  to  bestow  upon 
himself  in  this  matter. 

"  Dear  heart!   don't  fear,"  said  Cotterell  tenderly. 


HORSE  THIEVES.  217 

"  I  am  a  desperate  man  flying  for  his  life,  it  is  true, 
but  I  am  not  a  dastard.  No  human  being  at  Per- 
fection City  shall  ever  be  hurt  by  my  hand.  They 
are  all  sacred  to  me  for  your  sweet  sake.  Ah  yes,  how 
truly  it  is  Perfection  City,  none  but  I  really  know." 

They  walked  on  again  in  silence. 

"  Is  there  a  dog?  " 

"  Yes,  but  he  knows  me  well.  We  are  coming  to 
the  back  of  the  stable  now." 

"  Then  go  and  speak  to  the  dog  through  the 
chinks  of  the  logs,  else  he  will  bark  at  me." 

Olive  crept  up  quietly,  and  putting  her  lips  to  a 
crevice  in  the  rough  log-stable  said  softly,  "Pluto, 
good  dog! "  Pluto  answered  with  a  whine  of  satis- 
faction, and  a  soft,  purring  trumpet  from  Queen 
Katharine  announced  that  she  too  was  within,  and 
that  she  recognised  her  mistress's  voice. 

"  The  horses  are  here,"  whispered  Olive.  "  I  will 
go  round  and  bring  out  Queen  Katharine;  there  is 
only  a  wooden  bolt  on  the  outside  to  fasten  the  door. 
You  had  better  not  go  near  them  for  fear  of  exciting 
them,  which  might  make  the  dog  bark." 

"  It  is  dangerous  for  you  in  the  dark.  I  fear  the 
horses  may  hurt  you,"  said  Cotterell,  slow  in  bringing 
himself  to  give  up  the  little  hand  he  had  held  all 
during  that  strange  night  walk. 

"I  am  not  afraid  of  the  horses:  they  know  me 
and  I  know  them,"  said  Olive. 

Cotterell  heard  her  talking  softly  to  Queen  Kath- 


218  PERFECTION  CITY. 

arine  as  she  quietly  undid  her  halter  and  brought  her 
out  of  the  stable.  Not  a  creature  seemed  awake  in 
the  house,  and  not  a  word  was  spoken  by  the  two  as 
they  stole  past  down  to  the  bars.  Once  out  of  ear- 
shot, Cotterell  sprang  upon  Queen  Katharine  and 
stooping  down  lifted  Olive  up  before  him.  She  never 
could  quite  remember  the  wild  things  he  said  as  he 
rode  back  to  their  house,  holding  her  in  his  arms  on 
the  horse.  She  was  dizzy,  frightened,  and  confused, 
so  perhaps  he  did  not  say  all  those  wild  words,  and 
perhaps  she  dreamed  them.  He  got  Ezra's  saddle 
and  put  it  on  Queen  Katharine,  Olive  did  not  forget 
to  give  him  the  parcel  of  food  and  a  flask  of  milk  and 
water,  and  then  he  said  good-bye.  Such  a  strange 
good-bye.  He  knelt  before  her,  clasped  her  two 
hands  in  his  own,  and  said :  "  Now  I  know  why  men 
have  worshipped  the  image  of  pure  womanhood.  It 
made  them  better.  I  shall  be  made  a  better  man  by 
my  worship."  And  then  he  was  gone  without  another 
word,  and  Olive  crept  into  the  house  just  as  the  first 
grey  streaks  of  dawn  appeared. 


CHAPTER  XYII. 


A   LIFE    AT   STAKE. 


When  Brother  Wright  early  next  morning  discov- 
ered  the  loss  of  the  brown  mare,  he  was  thrown  into 
a  state  of  the  most  unphilosophic  rage.  He  had  not 
a  moment's  doubt  as  to  what  had  happened,  nor  a 
moment's  hesitation  as  to  the  course  he  should  pur- 
sue. He  hurried  back  to  the  house  and  without  any 
effort  at  concealment  got  out  his  revolver  and  stuck 
it  into  his  belt. 

"  Wright,"  said  Mary,  his  wife,  "  whatever  have 
you  got  there?  "    She  was  filled  with  amazement. 

"  A  pistol,"  replied  he  with  firmness. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  Shoot  a  damned  horse-thief,  w^ho  has  been  and 
broken  into  the  stable  and  stolen  Queen  Katharine." 

He  jammed  down  his  hat  on  his  head  and  made 
for  the  door,  while  Mary  Winkle  gave  a  scream  that 
would  have  done,  credit  to  the  finest  lady  in  the  land. 

"  You  shan't  do  any  such  thing!  You  will  be 
killed!  What  do  you  know  about  pistols?  You  will 
be  shot  by  those  murderous  horse-thieves,  and  what 

15  219 


220  PERFECTION  CITY. 

will  become  of  me — and  Willette?"  Mary  Winkle 
urged  the  very  arguments  that  have  before  now  been 
known  to  make  brave  men  falter  and  turn  back  from 
running  risks. 

"  I — I  shan't  do  anything  rash/'  said  Wright  sheep- 
ishly. "  I'll  just  go  round  and  rouse  the  neighbours 
and  see  if  we  can't  catch  him,  he  can't  have  got  very 
far  as  yet.  What  beats  me  is  why  Pluto  didn't  bark. 
The  dog's  a  fool,  I'll  drown  him." 

"  Oh,  I  am  thankful  he  didn't  bark,  for  you  might 
have  been  dead  by  now  if  he  had.  You  shan't  drown 
him,  for  he  has  saved  your  life.  Horse-thieves  are 
desperate  men  and  wouldn't  respect  our  principles  of 
non-resistance,"  said  Mary  Winkle. 

"  Ahem,"  said  her  husband,  tucking  the  revolver 
out  of  sight  until  required. 

"  What  we've  got  to  do  is  to  go  to  Madame  and 
summon  an  Assembly  of  Urgency  and  talk  this  matter 
over,  and  see  what  the  Community  is  to  do.  Wright, 
you  can't  go  and  rouse  the  neighbours  till  you've  got 
the  sanction  of  the  Assembly.  You  know  that  is  the 
rule  in  all  important  matters,  and  this  is  about  the 
most  important  matter  that  has  ever  come  up  for  dis- 
cussion." 

"  Damn  discussion!  "  said  Wright  angrily.  "  While 
we're  discussing  that  thief  will  get  away.  Sharp  is 
the  word  for  catching  horse-thieves." 

"But  sharp  is  not  the  word  for  determining  the 
action  of  Perfection  City  in  an  important  juncture 


A  LIFE  AT  STAKE.  221 

like  the  present.  Wright,  I  am  surprised  at 
you,  and  also  at  your  language,"  said  his  wife  se- 
verely. 

"  Oh  these  infernal  horse-thieves  would  provoke  a 
saint, — not  that  I  am  one,"  said  Wright,  still  in  a  rage 
most  unbecoming  to  a  professed  non-resistant,  and 
Mary  Winkle  looked  a  whole  essay  full  of  rebuke  at 
him.  She  carried  the  day,  however,  and  together 
they  carried  their  complaint  to  Madame. 

They  found  Madame  sitting  at  breakfast  along 
with  Uncle  David,  and  being  waited  upon  by  a  negro- 
servant,  Lucinda,  the  mother  of  Napoleon  Pompey. 
The  heat  of  a  cooking-stove  made  Madame  ill,  there- 
fore she  required  a  servant,  and  she  had  what  she 
required,  principles  of  equality  to  the  contrary  not- 
withstanding. 

"  Dear,  dear! "  exclaimed  Uncle  David  in  much 
excitement  and  perturbation.  "  Wal,  to  think  now 
o'  what  big  raskills  there  is  in  the  worF,  an'  we'a-set- 
tin'  'em  such  a  good  'xample  here  o'  honesty  an'  up- 
rightness." 

"  We  must  summon  the  Assembly,"  said  Mary 
Winkle  firmly.  "  It  is  a  great  pity  Brothers  Ezra  and 
Dummy  are  both  away,  but  there  are  quite  enough 
left  to  deliberate." 

"  If  you  think  that  is  the  best  plan,  we  had  bet- 
ter do  it  at  once,  there  should  be  no  time  wasted," 
said  Madame,  looking  interrogatively  at  Brother 
Wright's  frowning  face. 


222  PERFECTION  CITY. 

'^  If  you  ask  me "  lie  began  when  his  wife  in- 
terrupted him. 

"  We  don't  ask  you^  Wright,  at  least  not  until 
the  Assembly  of  Urgency  is  convened.  Your  vote 
doesn't  count  for  more  than  mine,  and  I  demand  an 
Assembly." 

Wright  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  Madame 
smiled  a  little  sarcastically.  "  We  will  summon  it/' 
she  said. 

"An'  I'll  jes'  step  roun'  an'  fetch  Sister  Olive," 
said  Uncle  David,  putting  on  his  hat  as  he  spoke,  "  an' 
you  can  bring  together  the  rest  of  the  brethren." 

They  came  quickly  enough  when  they  heard  of 
the  loss  of  the  brown  mare,  only  Olive  was  absent. 
She  was  ill  in  bed  with  a  headache  and  spoke  to 
Uncle  David  out  of  a  darkened  room. 

Brother  Wright  detailed  the  loss  of  the  horse, 
while  the  Assembly  listened  in  deepest  attention. 

"  What  we  have  to  consider  is  the  best  means  of 
recovering  the  horse  if  possible,"  said  Madame.  "  Does 
anyone  know  what  is  usually  done  under  similar  cir- 
cumstances? " 

"  The  neighbours  join  together  and  run  down  the 
thief  as  quickly  as  possible,"  said  Brother  Wright, 
with  sharp  emphasis. 

"  And  having  run  him  down,  hang  him,"  added 
Mary  Winkle. 

"  That  course  is  impossible  for  us,"  observed 
Madame. 


A  LIFE  AT  STAKE.  223 

^'  That  is  a  point  I  should  like  to  debate/'  said 
Brother  Wright.  "  If  we  are  to  live  here  we  must 
have  horses,  and  we  can't  keep  horses  if  it  is  known 
to  be  against  our  principles  to  shoot  a  horse-thief. 
That  is  all  I've  got  to  say." 

"  An'  I  want  to  notice  the  p'int  o'  Injuns,"  said 
Aunt  Eub}^  ^^  Ef  there's  Injuns  as  will  do  any 
wickedness  un'er  the  sun,  I  want  to  know  are  we  to 
sit  still  an'  be  roasted  on  our  own  fires  by  wile  savages 
like  that,  or  will  the  menfolks  defen'  us  as  other  men 
do?  An'  I  likewise  would  wish  to  p'int  out  to  the 
'Sembly  as  border  ruffians  is  mos'ly  as  bad  as  Injuns, 
an'  it  stan's  to  reason  as  horse-thieves  is  'bout  the 
same." 

^^  It  seems  to  me,"  said  Brother  Green,  speaking 
with  great  deliberation,  "  that  our  principles  were 
formed  and  adopted  because  we  thought  them  right. 
I  don't  see  in  what  we  should  differ  from  anybody 
else  if  we  took  to  the  usual  prairie  arms  the  moment 
we  felt  the  shoe  pinch!  If  non-resistance  is  right, 
it  should  be  practised  against  horse-thieves;  if  it  is 
wrong,  then  we  should  be  prepared  to  shoot  the 
thieves  of  other  men's  horses.  There  is  no  middle 
course.  The  throMdng  away  of  our  settled  convic- 
tions just  because  our  horse  has  been  stolen  is  not 
consistent." 

^'  I'll  vote  for  non-resistance  and  the  mainte- 
nance of  our  principles,"  said  Mary  Winkle  severely, 
"  and  I  further  think  that  what  is  decided  by  the 


224  PERFECTION  CITY. 

majority  in  this  meeting  should  bind  all  the  mem- 
bers.'^ 

She  fixed  her  eye  upon  Wright  mth  meaning. 

"It  is  a  most  difficult  juncture/'  remarked  Ma- 
dame. "I  wish  much  we  had  the  help  of  Brother 
Ezra's  wisdom  to  guide  us." 

"Yes/'  said  Uncle  David  cordially,  "an'  sister 
Olive  too." 

"I  do  not  see  how  Sister  Olive  can  have  any  ex- 
perience that  would  enable  her  to  give  good  advice 
on  this  subject/'  said  Madame  acidly. 

"  Oh,  Sister  Olive  has  consider'ble  'cuteness/'  re- 
marked Uncle  David.  "  Now  you'd  be  'stonished  to 
hear  the  wise  things  she  says,  an'  she  as  purty  as  a 
kitten  or  a  rose  all  the  while." 

"  Then  I  guess  we'll  just  do  nothing  at  all?  Is 
that  the  decision  of  this  Assembly?"  asked  Brother 
Wright  abruptly. 

"  There  is  great  force  in  passive  resistance/'  said 
Brother  Carpenter,  a  boneless  individual  who  coimted 
for  little  either  for  work  in  the  fields,  or  for  advice 
in  the  councils,  of  Perfection  City.  "Where  passive 
resistance  has  been  applied  by  large  numbers  and  for 
a  long  time  it  has  effected  great  changes,"  he  observed 
conversationally. 

"  I  think  principles  are  principles/'  said  Brother 
Green,  "  and  may  not  be  lightly  set  aside." 

"  Well,  I  guess  I'll  go  home  then,  since  nothing 
is  going  to  be  done,"  said  Brother  Wright  angrily. 


A  LIFE  AT  STAKE.  225 

"and  I'll  try  and  keep  hold  of  the  last  horse,  else 
that  thief  will  come  and  take  him  too,  when  he  finds 
what  fools  he's  got  to  deal  with." 

The  Assembly  broke  up,  having  decided  nothing 
at  all,  and  having  only  succeeded  in  embittering  the 
feelings  of  several  persons,  and  in  widening  the  chasm 
of  differences  which  had  revealed  itself  in  the  course 
of  the  debate,  a  result  that  has  often  followed  the 
meeting  of  larger  and  more  notorious  Assemblies. 

Although  Brother  Wright  could  not  now  violate 
one  of  the  fundamental  doctrines  of  Perfection  City, 
it  was  open  to  him  to  use  a  little  worldly  wisdom 
in  the  way  of  setting  others  upon  the  track  of  the 
thief.  ^Accordingly,  without  saying  a  single  word 
to  Mary  Winkle  or  anyone  else,  he  mounted  Eebel 
and  proceeded  to  rouse  the  neighbours  who  were  not 
at  all  bound  by  non-resistant  theories.  Nothing  gets 
up  a  prairie  man's  anger  quicker  than  the  knowledge 
that  a  horse-thief  has  begun  active  operations  in  his 
vicinity.  Horses  are  absolutely  necessary  to  his  daily 
life,  and  to  be  suddenly  deprived  of  his  horses  is  one 
of  the  greatest  calamities  that  can  overtake  a  settler. 
They  can  take  a  merciful  view  of  homicide  at  times, 
but  never  of  horse-stealing.  Brother  Wright  relied 
on  this  known  propensity,  and  by  visiting  the  most 
hardy  of  liis  neighbours  had  before  night  started  as 
relentless  a  set  of  hunters  after  Queen  Katharine  as 
ever  put  leg  over  horse  or  drew  pistol  from  belt. 

Olive  meanwhile  remained  at  home  all  unconscious 


226  PERFECTION  CITY. 

of  what  had  taken  place  at  the  Assembly,  and  of  the 
pursuit  organized  afterwards  as  the  effect  of  Brother 
Wright's  embassies.  She  had  decided  in  her  own  mind 
that  the  best  course  for  her  to  adopt  was  to  keep  ab- 
solute silence  until  Ezra  should  come  home.  To  him 
she  would  explain  everything,  and  she  felt  convinced 
that  he  was  just  enough,  albeit  no  friend  of  Cot- 
terelFs,  to  be  ready  to  sacrifice  a  horse  in  order  to 
facilitate  his  escape.  She  did  not  feel  at  all  so  sure 
about  some  of  the  other  members  of  the  Community. 
At  all  events  Cotterell's  best  chance  of  safety  lay  in 
her  keeping  firmly  to  her  resolution  of  silence  about 
him.  The  best  way  for  her  to  keep  silent  without  ex- 
citing suspicion  was  not  to  talk  with  anyone,  and  feel- 
ing pretty  well  convinced  that  somebody  would  come 
to  talk  over  the  great  calamity  with  her,  she  resolved 
to  be  out  of  the  way.  In  any  case  she  was  very  miser- 
able and  very  anxious,  and  could  not  stay  at  home, 
so  she  wandered  off  for  a  walk.  She  went  to  the 
spring,  then  she  went  to  WeddelFs  Gully  and  looked 
at  the  black  burnt  waste.  She  tried  to  think  about 
the  interest  and  excitement  of  the  fire,  but  could  think 
of  nothing  but  Cotterell  riding  for  his  life  and  of 
the  men  who  were  riding  after  him.  Olive  knew 
nothing  of  the  second  set  of  men  sent  after  the  horse- 
thief;  her  mind  was  still  anxiously  dwelling  on  the 
probability  of  his  being  captured  by  those  who  had 
"  wanted  "  him  for  the  murder  of  Jake  Mills.  The  fact 
was,  however,  that  this  first  hunting-party  had  given 


A  LIFE  AT  STAKE.  227 

"over  their  quest,  for  a  man  must  be  caught  by  the 
second  day  on  the  prairie  if  he  is  to  be  caught  at  all. 
This,  however,  Olive  did  not  know,  and  she  kept  won- 
dering and  picturing  all  sorts  of  terrible  possibilities. 
Had  the  men  found  the  trail?  Would  Queen  Kath- 
arine hold  out  till  he  got  to  the  border?  True  she 
had  been  resting  for  a  whole  day,  but  then  a  man's 
life  depended  on  her  endurance,  and  Olive  remem- 
bered with  a  cold  dread  that  Queen  Katharine  was 
only  a  farm-horse  and  not  trained  to  such  desperate 
efforts  as  this.  Then  she  remembered  the  others,  those 
dreadful  hunters,  were  also  mounted  on  farm-horses, 
and  this  thought  gave  her  some  small  comfort.  She 
came  home  again  after  a  most  wretched  day  spent 
in  aimless  rambling  over  the  hopeless  black  prairie 
and  crept  up  to  the  out-side  platform  to  scan  once 
more  that  dreary  waste  towards  the  endless  western 
horizon.  Far  away  towards  the  north-west  she  saw 
a  band  of  horsemen  huddled  together  and  moving 
rapidly  in  an  easterly  direction.  Olive's  heart  stood 
still  with  terror.  Oh!  who  were  they?  And  why 
were  they  riding  rapidly?  Men  rode  in  bands  to 
funerals,  but  then  they  went  slowly:  they  rode  fast 
only  when  out  on  a  man-hunt.  She  did  not  call  up 
Napoleon  Pompey,  although  he  could  see  like  a  hawk; 
she  dreaded  to  hear  what  his  explanation  would  be. 
She  watched  with  straining  eyes  until  the  men  had 
disappeared  within  the  belt  of  timber  that  marked 
the    course    of    the    Creek,    then    she    came    down- 


228  PERFECTION  CITY. 

stairs   with   her   miserable    discovery   hidden   in   her 
heart. 

The  next  day  dragged  slowly  by,  Olive  feeling 
more  and  more  wretched  and  anxious  each  moment, 
and  longing  for  Ezra's  return.  Napoleon  Pompey 
did  nothing  but  speculate  about  the  horse-thief  and 
the  probabilities  of  his  capture.  He  regaled  Olive 
with  accounts  of  the  numbers  of  men  out  on  the  hunt, 
the  desperate  character  of  their  courage,  and  the  mur- 
derous accuracy  of  their  aim  with  revolvers.  Sick  at 
heart  she  had  to  listen  to  him  and  try  and  collect  her 
terrified  senses  in  order  to  make  occasional  comments 
and  replies.  Again  she  hid  herself  away  from  her 
neighbours  and  spent  most  of  the  day  in  a  corn-stack, 
not  two  hundred  yards  from  the  house,  whence  she 
could  see  plainly  without  being  seen.  Uncle  David 
came  and  stayed  so  long  waiting  for  her,  that  she 
nearly  smothered  in  the  corn-stack  before  he  went 
away,  and  she  was  able  to  come  out  and  catch  a  breath 
of  fresh  air.  Then  Aunt  Euby  came  and  peered  all 
about  everywhere,  even  down  into  the  cellar,  and 
stayed  a  good  while  there  examining  Olive's  milk- 
pans,  until  Olive  bethought  herself  of  the  device  of 
sending  off  Diana  to  hasten  Aunt  Ruby's  exit  from 
the  cellar.  This  device  succeeded:  Aunt  Ruby  was 
so  dismayed  at  seeing  that  redoubable  puppy  lolluping 
up  to  her  that  she  incontinently  fled,  and  Olive 
emerged  once  more  from  the  suffocation  of  the  corn- 
stack. 


A  LIFE  AT  STAKE.  229 

Mary  Winkle  came  twice,  fortunately  without 
Willette,  for  that  astute  young  person  would  instantly 
have  discovered  Olive,  owing  to  the  pertinacious  com- 
pany of  Diana.  A  dog  does  not  hang  around  a  corn- 
stack  the  live-long  day  unless  there  is  something  in- 
teresting inside  it  claiming  attention.  Olive  began 
to  feel  like  a  hunted  criminal  herself. 

Napoleon  Pompey  had  been  sent  away  in  the  morn- 
ing to  look  for  some  young  cattle  that  had  not  been 
seen  since  the  fire,  and  having  to  go  on  foot  he  did  not 
come  back  till  the  afternoon.  He  burst  in  upon  her 
with  these  appalling  words: 

"  Dey's  done  cotch  him!  " 

"Who  told  you?"  asked  Olive,  not  pretending 
any  miscomprehension  of  what  was  only  too  plain  to 
her  mind. 

"  Ole  nigger  seed  'em.  Dey  bringin'  him  back. 
Ole  man  Cotterell  he  de  hoss-thief,  him  ridin'  Queen 
Katharine  when  dey  cotch  him.  Nigger  tole  me  he 
seed  'em  yonder." 

"Have  they  shot  him?"  asked  Olive  with  white 
lips. 

"  No,  dey's  gwine  ter  jury-try  him,  den  dey  hang 
him  'cause  he  done  stole  boss  and  he  kill  ole  Mill's 
Jake."  Napoleon  Pompey  licked  his  lips  and  grinned. 
Olive  turned  from  him  in  horror. 

"Where  have  they  taken  him  to?" 

"  Dunno.  Nigger  he  'lowed  dey  gwine  ter  Jack- 
sonville." 


230  PERFECTION  CITY. 

Olive  made  up  her  mind  and  took  lier  resolution. 
She  questioned  Napoleon  Pompey  very  carefully, 
found  exactly  what  negro  it  was  from  whom  he  had 
obtained  his  information  concerning  the  capture  of 
Cotterell.  He  worked  with  the  Halls  who  lived  over 
the  other  side  of  Cotton  Wood  Creek,  and  she  made 
minute  inquiries  as  to  how  to  reach  their  house.  Then 
she  told  the  boy  to  give  Eebel  a  double  feed  of  corn 
and  to  bring  in  the  new  lariat-rope  and  mallet  and 
pin.  Rebel  had  been  removed  back  to  his  own  stable 
by  Brother  Wright's  desire,  as  he  had  no  belief  now 
in  Pluto  as  a  watch-dog.  Napoleon  Pompey  was  open- 
mouthed  with  wonder  at  Olive's  directions  about  the 
horse,  and  asked  "  whar  she  gwine  ?  "  She  told  him 
to  do  as  she  bid  him  and  to  say  nothing  to  anybody 
about  it,  whereat  he  was  still  more  open-mouthed. 
Olive  got  a  large  shawl  and  rolled  it  up  into  a  tight 
bundle,  and  then  dressed  herself  in  a  strong  serviceable 
stuff  dress  and  went  to  supper  with  Napoleon  Pompey, 
to  whom  she  never  spoke  a  single  word.  When  sup- 
per was  over  she  sent  him  down  to  his  mother  to  ask 
her  to  bake  a  pumpkin-pie  for  her.  Napoleon  Pompey 
said  he  would  go  "fust  thing  in  de  mornin',"  and 
she  told  him  sternly  to  go  at  once  and  do  as  he  was 
bid.  When  Napoleon  Pompey  came  back  Olive  was 
gone,  and  so  was  Rebel,  with  lariat-rope  picket-pin 
and  mallet,  and  so  was  her  tightly  rolled  shawl. 

Perfection  City  had  further  cause  for  amazement 
and  hurried  meeting  in  Assembly. 


A  LIFE  AT  STAKE,  231 

Olive,  meanwhile,  was  riding  fast  towards  Cotton 
Wood  Creek  which  she  reached  and  crossed  by  the 
last  shreds  of  daylight.  She  stumbled  up  out  of  the 
bottom-lands  on  to  the  high  prairie,  then  perceiving  by 
the  sound  of  RebeFs  hoofs  that  at  last  she  had  struck 
grass  again,  for  the  fire  had  not  crossed  the  Creek, 
she  determined  to  camp.  It  was  a  black  night,  but 
she  knew  how  to  drive  her  picket  and  unsaddle  her 
horse  blindfold.  Taking  her  saddle  and  shawl  out  of 
the  circle  of  Rebel's  night-range,  she  wrapped  herself 
up  to  wait  until  daylight  should  permit  her  again  to 
go  forward.  She  was  not  in  the  least  frightened,  al- 
though the  prairie  wolves  were  yelping  in  the  distance. 
The  nervous  terrors  that  had  beset  her  when  sitting 
in  her  own  comfortable  little  kitchen  with  her  dog 
at  her  feet,  and  a  stout  lad  in  the  room  overhead, 
were  quite  gone.  Yet  there  was  enough  to  frighten 
a  more  valiant  person  than  our  poor  little  Olive, 
with  her  half-defined  thoughts  and  her  generous  im- 
pulses. 

What  was  it  she  proposed  to  herself  in  this  ex- 
pedition? First  of  all  to  overtake  Cotterell  and  his 
captors,  and  then  to  do  what  the  wit  of  woman  could 
devise  to  save  him  from  their  fury.  In  her  ignorance 
of  prairie  feelings  and  ideas  she  attached  no  impor- 
tance to  the  fact  that  he  would  have  been  captured 
riding  the  well-known  brown  mare  belonging  to  Per- 
fection City.  He  would  of  course  explain  that  she  had 
lent  him  the  animal,  and  that  question  would  at  once 


232  PERFECTION  CITY. 

drop  out  of  the  debate.  Then  the  terrible  one  of  the 
shooting  of  Jake  Mills  would  have  to  be  settled.  That 
was  what  she  feared  for  Cotterell,  and  that  was  where 
her  testimony  and  pleading  might  avail.  She  knew 
from  his  own  lips  how  the  fatal  affray  had  occurred, 
and  she  would  be  able  in  some  measure,  perhaps,  to 
counteract  the  evidence  of  that  wicked  lying  negro 
who  out  of  revenge  was  going  to  swear  away  Cotterell's 
life.  Olive  hated  to  do  it,  but  she  knew  she  could 
say  things  to  any  western  jury  that  would  make  it 
difficult  for  them  to  admit  negro  evidence.  For  once 
in  a  way  the  mighty  race-prejudice  could  be  relied 
upon  to  work  for  justice,  and  poor  Olive,  fanatical 
friend  of  the  negro,  had  to  confess  she  was  glad  to 
have  so  strong  a  lever  to  her  hand  in  this  dreadful 
emergency. 

Meanwhile  the  never-ending  night  wore  on.  How 
long,  how  unutterably  long  are  the  hours  of  darkness 
to  them  who  wait  sleeplessly  for  the  dawn!  The 
twinkling  stars  passed  over  her  head,  and  Olive  tried 
to  fix  her  e3^es  steadily  on  one  or  two  of  them  in  order 
to  convince  herself  that  they  really  did  move  after  all. 
Thus  staring  at  the  stars,  her  eyes  became  weary,  and 
the  lids  dropped  slowly  over  them,  and  she  fell  into  a 
troubled  sleep,  haunted  with  fearsome  visions. 

She  must  have  slept  some  little  time,  for  when  she 
awoke  the  stars  had  certainly  changed  places  and 
were  moreover  becoming  pale  in  the  first  grey  streaks 
of  morning.     Olive  awoke  shivering  with  cold  and 


A  LIFE  AT  STAKE.  233 

drenched  with  the  heavy  prairie  dew.  Her  teeth  chat- 
tered, so  she  could  hear  them  Hke  a  piece  of  hroken 
machinery  moving  inside  her  head,  while  her  fingers 
were  almost  numh.  As  soon  as  she  could  make  out 
Rebel  in  the  approaching  dawn,  she  saddled  him,  and, 
woman-like,  did  not  forget  the  lariat-rope,  picket-pin 
and  mallet,  even  in  the  midst  of  her  terrible  anxiety. 
She  thought  of  Cotterell  in  the  hands  of  his  foes,  and 
the  recollection  came  back  to  her,  like  a  blow  that 
almost  stunned  her,  that  this  would  be  the  last  time 
he  would  ever  see  the  sun  rise  unless  she  hurried  to 
his  rescue.  The  thought  spurred  her  to  renewed  activ- 
ity, the  horror  of  it  drove  the  chilled  blood  with  a 
rush  to  her  heart.  She  caught  her  breath,  and  then 
felt  hot.  She  did  not  shiver  any  more,  and  her  chat- 
tering teeth  were  set  in  a  desperate  resolve.  She 
clambered  up  on  the  horse's  back  and  set  off  at  a  gal- 
lop towards  that  house  where  she  would  get  positive 
news  which  would  help  her  to  find  the  lynching-party 
quickly.  Ah!  merciful  God!  The  lynching-party! 
She  urged  Rebel  into  a  harder  gallop,  for  the  sun  was 
just  beginning  to  appear  over  the  horizon,  and  she 
could  see  where  she  was  going.  She  reached  the 
cabin  where  the  Halls  lived  in  due  course.  They  didn't 
know  her,  but  they  invited  her  to  breakfast  with  prai- 
rie courtesy.  She  saw  the  negro  man  who  had  told 
the  news  to  Napoleon  Pompey. 

"  Yes,  he  seed  'em  totin'  ole  man  Cotterell  back." 
There  was  never  any  doubt  in  OUve's  mind  as  to  the 


234  PERFECTION  CITY. 

fact  that  they  had  caught  him,  what  she  wanted  to 
know  was  the  destination  of  the  party.  "  He  'lowed 
dey  was  gwine  ter  Jacksonville,  'cause  down  yonder 
was  whar  dey  hang  de  las'  man;  den  dey  jury-try 
him,  an'  Jacksonville  mighty  handy  anyhow,  dar  heaps 
o'  trees  dar." 

Olive  could  not  repress  a  shudder  of  horror  which 
the  negro  saw,  and  so  did  the  Halls.  She  would  not 
stop  a  moment  to  eat  a  bit  of  breakfast,  notwithstand- 
ing their  urgent  entreaties,  but  got  directions  as  to* 
the  shortest  road  to  Jacksonville  and  hastened  away 
on  her  errand  of  mercy. 

Mrs.  Hall  looking  after  her  rapidly  vanishing  fig- 
ure, and  remembering  the  look  of  misery  on  her  face, 
"  reckoned  'twas  one  o'  them  po'  silly  gals  as  is  cotched 
by  a  yaller  'stache.  She  was  powerful  sorry  for  her 
anyhow,  she  'peared  mos'  broke  down  an'  sick.  She 
'lowed  if  the  boys  bed  hung  ole  man  Cotterell  when 
Glover's  gal  shot  herself  'cause  he  wouldn't  marry  her, 
'twould  hev  been  a  sight  better  anyhow."  Her  hus- 
band was  of  opinion  that  ^*  gals  was  fules  gapin'  a'ter 
strangers  an'  furrin  fellers,  not  bein'  content  along  o' 
their  nat'ral  men-folks  as  b'longed  to  'em,  app'inted 
by  the  hand  o'  Providence." 

Olive  rode  through  the  hot  September  day  feeling 
very  faint  and  tired,  but  never  for  a  moment  falter- 
ing in  her  determination;  and  well  on  in  the  after- 
noon she  came  to  Jacksonville,  a  place  with  two  houses 
standing  and  the  stakes  for  three  more  stuck  into  the 


A  LIFE   AT  STAKE.  235 

ground  to  signify  possession.  There  was  only  one 
woman  in  the  place  along  with  a  flock  of  children. 
No  sign  of  men  anywhere.  The  woman  did  not  know 
much  about  the  movements  of  the  "  boys."  "  They 
hadn't  passed  that  way  at  all,  but  she  hearn  tell  they 
had  been  out  catching  a  horse-thief  and  murderer,  and 
they  had  caught  him  too,  a  Britisher,  she  was  told, 
and  it  was  a  shame  those  foreigners  should  be  allowed 
to  come  to  America  to  steal  honest  folks  horses,  and 
true  born  Americans  too,  as  always  worked  for  every 
cent  before  they  spent  it.  They  had  taken  him  to 
Union  Mills  to  try  him  and  she  hoped — well  she  didn't 
want  to  say  anything  unbecoming  to  a  professing 
Christian,  but  wouldn't  Olive  come  in  and  eat  a  bit 
and  rest  before  going  further,  she  didn't  look  fit  for 
such  hard  riding."  Olive,  feeling  sick  with  disap- 
pointment, accepted  a  morsel  of  food,  and  asking  her 
way  to  Union  Mills  started  off.  She  had  come  thirty- 
eight  miles,  already,  and  if  she  had  only  known  where 
to  go  she  would  have  been  there  hours  ago.  It  was 
nearly  twenty  miles  to  Union  Mills,  she  could  not 
hope  to  reach  it  that  night,  but  she  started  neverthe- 
less although  the  sun  was  getting  low  in  the  west. 
The  horrid  thought  kept  pressing  against  her  heart: 
was  she  already  too  late?  But  no,  she  would  force 
it  out  of  her  mind,  and  come  what  might  she  would 
never  stop  until  she  had  done  her  utmost  to  save  him. 
She  therefore  pressed  forward,  but  Rebel  showed  signs 

of  giving  out.     He  lay  down  with  her  suddenly  and 
16 


236  PERFECTION  CITY. 

tried  to  roll.  This  would  never  do.  All  depended  on 
her  horse,  if  he  failed  her  then  Cotterell's  last  chance 
of  life  was  gone.  She  rode  slowly,  now  following  a 
prairie  track  and  now  riding  along  side  it,  because 
Eebel  stumbled  in  the  ruts.  It  got  dark,  she  did  not 
know  where  she  was,  but  followed  the  track  for  some 
time  mechanicall}^  A  light  suddenl}^  showed  up  on 
her  left.  Rebel  pricked  up  his  ears  and  turned  towards 
it.  After  some  difficulty  she  reached  the  door.  Could 
they  harbour  her  for  the  night?  She  was  caught  out 
and  could  go  no  further. 

"  Land  o'  Goshen!  'course  they  could,  an'  whar 
in  sin  was  she  gwine  that  time  o'  night  'thout  nobody, 
not  even  a  dawg?"  Olive  said  it  was  a  case  of  life 
and  death  and  she  must  do  it.  They  were  deeply 
sorry,  they  fed  her  with  corn-bread  and  bacon,  they 
fed  her  horse,  and  were  kindness  itself.  The  cabin 
had  only  one  room  with  a  bed  in  one  corner  for  the 
man  and  his  wife.  Olive  was  desperately  tired.  The 
wife  said  "  she'd  be  doggauned  sick  'less  she  went  to 
bed."  So  Olive  lay  down  on  the  bed,  and  the  settler's 
wife  lay  down  beside  her,  and  the  man  slept  on  the 
floor  with  his  head  on  a  pile  of  corn-shucks.  Long 
before  daylight  he  went  out  and  fed  her  horse.  The 
wife  cooked  a  good  breakfast  and  pressed  Olive  again 
and  again  "  to  scrouge  down  suthin'  more,"  and  sent 
her  off  with  many  good  wishes  as  to  her  finding  her 
husband  better,  who,  she  was  sure,  'ud  be  tickled  to 
death  at  seeing  her. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

LYNCH   LAW. 

Union  Mills  was  full  of  people,  mostly  men,  and 
Phillipps'  Store,  which  was  the  only  shop  in  the  place, 
as  well  as  being  the  Post-Ofhce,  was  crowded  to  sujffo- 
cation.     Those  who  couldn't  get  inside  stood  around 
the  door  talking  loudly  as  they  chewed  their  tobacco. 
Inside  the  talking  and  tobacco-chewing  were  carried 
on  likewise.     A  ring  of  men  were  sitting  on  barrels 
and  nail-kegs  and  coils  of  rope  and  extemporized  chairs 
of  all  kinds.     Of  these,  twelve  arranged  together  at 
one  side  formed  the  jury,  and  the  rest  were  witnesses 
and  spectators.     In  their  midst  stood  Cotterell.     He 
was  not  bound  or  specially  guarded  in  any  way,  but 
he  was  unarmed,  while  pistols  hung  at  the  belts  of  all 
the  other  men  there.     Cotterell  held  his  head  erect, 
his  eyes  looked  clear,  and  his  lips  were  firm.    A  care- 
ful observer  might  have  noticed  that  his  nostrils  some- 
times twitched,  but  his  hands  were  perfectly  steady. 
Yet  he  was  on  trial  for  his  life,  without  appeal  and 
without  a  friend  in  "  the  court."    Several  of  the  men 
had  asked   him   questions  which   he   had  answered, 

237 


238  PERFECTION  CITY. 

shortly  and  sharply  perhaps,  but  with  a  perfectly  steady 
voice. 

"  I  dunno  what  we're  gwine  on  talkin'  for/'  said 
a  jury  man  with  a  twang  that  bespoke  Arkansas. 
"  Hain't  it  clar  this  hyar  feller,  what  was  wanted  for 
the  shootin'  o'  Ole  Mills'  boy,  he's  the  same  cuss  as 
stole  the  mare  from  them  damned  fools  up  to  'Fection 
City?  He's  got  ter  be  hanged,  anyhow.  I  want  ter 
go  home.  I  hain't  a-gwine  to  stick  hyar  all  day,  by 
Gosh! " 

"  I  did  not  steal  the  mare,"  said  Cotterell,  his  nos- 
trils dilating. 

"  You  hear  that,"  said  the  foreman,  who  sat  on  a 
sugar-barrel. 

.     "  \"ou  was  ridin'  her  when  we  come  up  t'yer," 
said  one  who  had  been  out  on  the  hunt. 

"  I  was." 

'"  How  'd-  yer  git  her  then  'cept  by  stealin'?" 

"  She  was  lent  to  me  by  one  of  the  members  of 
the  Community,"  said  Cotterell. 

"  They's  damn  fools,  I  know,  but  I  reckon  they 
hain't  such  all-fired  damn  fools  as  ter  give  their  best 
hoss  ter  you,"  said  the  man  from  Arkansas. 

Cotterell's  lips  curled  with  contempt,  but  he  did 
not  speak. 

"  Look  hyar,  fellow  jurymen,"  said  one  of  them, 
who  prided  himself  on  the  accuracy  of  his  language 
on  all  occasions.  "  I'd  axe  leave  ter  make  a  few  re- 
marks.    We  were  informed  by  the  gentlemen  what 


LYNCH  LAW.  239 

caught  the  prisoner  that  they  were  notified  o'  the 
stealing  by  one  o'  them  Perfection  City  fellers.  If 
the  horse  was  lent  how  is  it  the  owner  didn't  know 
about  the  lending?  " 

"  Yes/'  said  one  of  the  gentlemen  referred  to, 
"  ole  man  Wright,  he  come  and  tol'  me  'bout  the  steal- 
in'  o'  the  boss,  an'  he  'lowed,  on'y  it  was  agin  his  prin- 
ciples, he'd  like  ter  hev  been  out  with  the  boys.  It 
don't  'pear  ter  my  min'  as  there  was  much  len'ing 
'bout  it." 

"This  trial,  gen'lemen,  is  all  fair  and  square  an' 
'cordin'  to  law.  We'll  settle  this  p'int  'fore  we  go 
further,"  said  the  foreman.  "  Y^ou  say  the  horse  was 
lent  to  you?  " 

"  I  do  say  so  emphatically,"  replied  the  prisoner. 

"  Wal,  we've  got  one  o'  them  'Fection  City  fellers 
to  say  the  boss  was  stolen,  he'll  swear  to  that,  an'  I 
reckon  by  their  idees  he  was  part-owner  of  it  anyhow. 
Now,  that's  the  witness  agin  yer.  Who  have  you  got 
to  swear  yer  was  lent  the  horse  fair  and  square?  " 

"  I  have  had  no  chance  of  getting  any  witness,  as 
you  very  well  know,"  replied  Cotterell. 

"'Wal,  I  reckon  yo'  hev  bin  kep'  purty  toler'ble 
close.  Anyhow,  it  shan't  be  said  as  we  hain't  gi'en  yer 
a  good  chance.  Now,  which  might  be  yer  witness  to 
the  len'ing?  There  hain't  such  a  damn  sight  o'  folks 
up  to  'Fection  City  as  'ud  make  yer  forget  so  ready 
as  all  that." 

Cotterell  hesitated. 


240  PERFECTION  CITY. 

"  Hain't  yo'  got  no  tongue  ?  Who  lent  yer  the 
hoss,  I  say?"  repeated  the  foreman. 

"Mrs.  Weston/'  said  Cotterell  at  last. 

"  That's  a  lie,  anyhow,"  burst  out  one  of  the  by- 
standers. 

"  It  is  not  a  lie,  it  is  the  truth,"  said  Cotterell 
hotly. 

"  Wal,  now,  see  hyar.  I  was  over  to  ole  man  Wes- 
ton's, an'  I  seed  Mis'  Weston  myself,  an'  she  tole  me 
she  hadn't  sot  eyes  on  yer.    Now  then  ?  " 

It  was  Owen  who  spoke,  he  had  been  out,  as  we 
know,  on  the  first  hunting-party  and  was  now  present 
as  a  spectator.  He  would  have  been  on  the  jury,  only 
it  was  considered  more  delicate  for  him  to  stand  aside, 
considering  that  he  had  been  out  to  catch  Cotterell, 
and  prairie  men  are  punctilious  in  the  observance  of 
all  those  forms  of  etiquette  with  which  they  are  famil- 
iar. Although  not  on  the  jury,  Owen  was  quite  free 
to  intervene  in  the  trial,  he  was  one  of  the  foremost 
settlers  on  the  prairie.  Cotterell  looked  hard  at  him 
as  he  spoke. 

"Did  she  tell  you  that  herself?"  he  asked,  draw- 
ing his  eye-brows  tightly  together. 

"  Yes,  she  tole  me  herself,"  replied  Owen. 

"  Then  I  have  nothing  further  to  say,"  said  Cot- 
terell, setting  his  teeth  grimly  under  his  moustache. 
He  realised  very  clearly  what  he  was  doing,  he  was 
throwing  away  his  last  chance  of  life;  but  his  resolu- 
tion  never   wavered   for  a   moment.     The   thought 


LYNCH  LAW.  241 

flashed  through  his  mind  that  most  people  would 
think  him  a  fool  to  act  as  he  did,  risk  the  certainty 
of  death  for  the  sake  of  a  fantastic  loyalty  to  a  woman 
who  could  never  be  to  him  anything  but  the  distant 
friend  another  man's  wife  should  be.  Then  came  the 
recollection  that  no  one,  not  even  she  for  whom  he 
was  sacrificing  his  life,  would  ever  know  what  he  had 
done.  There  was  something  fantastic  surely  in  all 
this.  Their  whole  acquaintance  had  been  fantastic 
in  a  sense:  Mr.  Perseus  was  a  fancy,  but  how  danger- 
ously sweet  it  had  been  while  it  lasted.  And  now  it 
was  over,  he  would  never  hear  the  sound  of  her  voice 
again  nor  feel  the  touch  of  her  little  hand.  Poor 
child!  He  could  well  imagine,  with  that  jealous  hus- 
band of  hers,  how  she  might  have  been  driven  to  save 
herself  from  his  anger  by  declaring  she  had  never  seen 
him.  Jealousy  was  a  monster  surely,  if  there  ever 
was  a  monster  on  this  earth.  Cotterell  almost  smiled 
to  himself  as  he  thought  how  once  again  he  would 
act  the  part  of  Perseus  to  the  unhappy  one  and  save 
her  by  his  silence  from  the  monster's  fangs.  Thoughts 
such  as  these  swept  through  his  mind  as  he  stood  fac- 
ing the  jury,  while  they  were  somewhat  nonplussed 
as  to  their  future  proceedings  owing  to  his  determina- 
tion not  to  say  anything  further.  It  appeared  almost 
indecent  to  hang  a  man  who  would  not  argue  out  the 
points  with  them:  they  had  never  met  such  a  one 
before. 

"  There's  a  gal  hyar  a-wantin'  ter  come  in/'  said 


242  PEEFECTION  CITY. 

one  of  the  men  who  was  standing  just  outside  the 
door. 

"  Keep  her  hout/'  said  one  of  the  jury.  "  We 
hain^t  agoin'  ter  hev  an}^  women  a  screech-owhn'  hyar. 
It's  one  o'  his  gals  as  he's  lef  to  die  maybe  of  a  broken 
heart  'thout  the  satisfaction  o'  bein'  a  widder." 

"  Let  me  pass,  please/'  said  an  imperious  little 
voice  that  thrilled  Cotterell  to  the  heart.  "  I  am  one 
of  the  witnesses  in  this  trial.  I  have  important  evi- 
dence to  give." 

The  men  fell  back  and  left  the  passage  free.  West- 
ern men,  even  armed  ones,  can't  do  anything  against 
a  woman. 

Olive  came  into  the  crowded  room,  Olive  dirty, 
dishevelled,  travel-stained,  her  face  begrimed  with 
i:)rairie  dust,  her  hair  unkempt,  her  dress  crumpled 
and  with  many  a  rent  in  it.  Cotterell  hardly  knew 
her. 

"Who  mought  yer  be,  miss?  "  inquired  one  of  the 
j^^ry. 

"  I  am  Mrs.  Weston." 

"  Whar's  yer  husband?  Yer  hadn't  oughter  be  hyar 
a  follerin'  this  feller  roun'  the  prairie.     Tain't " 

"  Shut  yer  mouth  or  I'll  send  a  bullet  down  yer 
gullet,"  roared  the  foreman,  putting  his  hand  to  his 
revolver.  "  Take  a  cheer,"  he  added,  gallantly  offer- 
ing Olive  the  sugar-barrel  upon  which  he  had  been  sit- 
ting in  his  official  capacity. 

"  No,  thank  you,"  said  Olive.     "  I  will  stand." 


LYNCH  LAW.  243 

She  took  her  place  beside  Cotterell,  but  without  look- 
ing at  him  or  addressing  a  single  word  to  him. 

"What  are  you  trying  this  man  for?"  she  asked, 
facing  the  jury  dauntlessly. 

"  Wal,  mos'ly  fur  stealin'  yer  hoss/'  said  one  of 
them. 

"  He  didn't  steal  it.  I  myself  lent  him  the  horse. 
It  belongs  to  us/'  was  the  reply. 

"By  Gosh!"  exclaimed  Owen,  "you  tole  me  yer- 
self  yer  hadn't  sot  n'ary  an  eye  on  him." 

"  So  I  hadn't  when  you  were  there,  he  did  not 
come  until  the  next  day." 

The  jury  whistled  collectively  and  incredulously. 

"  Silence!  "  said  the  foreman. 

"  I  can  now  explain,"  said  Cotterell.  "  I  didn't  go 
to  Mrs.  Weston's  house  until  two  days  after — after 
Mills'  death '' 

"  A'ter  yer  killed  him,"  corrected  Owen. 

"  And  you  were  there  the  next  day,"  concluded 
Cotterell,  not  taking  any  notice  of  the  interruption. 

"  Yes,  that  is  it.  Mr.  Cotterell  came  the  next  even- 
ing but  one  after  the  prairie  fire,  and  I  gave  him  the 
mare  to  go  away  on,  because  his  colt  broke  loose  from 
the  bars  in  the  dark."  Olive  spoke  quite  quietl}^,  with 
no  trace  of  excitement  beyond  a  knitting  of  her  pretty 
eye-brows. 

"  Wal,  I  reckon  we  hain't  got  nuthin'  more  to  do 
then,"  said  one  of  the  jury-men,  getting  up  from' his 
nail-keg  and  strapping  up  his  holster. 


244  PERFECTION  CITY. 

"There's  the  murder  too/'  objected  one,  "not  as 
I  put  it  fust  noways,  on'y  we  might  go  inter  it  now, 
seein'  there  hain't  nuthin'  ter  be  got  outer  the  hoss- 
steahn'  business." 

"  Yer  hain't  got  evidence  for  tlie  murder  case  too, 
has  3^er?"  sneered  the  man  who  had  been  so  peremp- 
torily silenced  by  the  foreman  on  his  first  objection 
to  Olive's  presence. 

"  Only  this.    You  are  not  non-resistants,  are  you?  " 

"  We  hain't  such  blasted  fools,"  observed  the  Ar- 
kansas man  genially. 

"  Well,  then,  when  this  poor  Jake  Mills  in  his 
drunken  fury  came  up  and  fired  at  Mr.  Cotterell,  was 
he  or  was  he  not  to  fire  in  self-defence,  according  to 
your  ideas  and  practice?" 

"  Of  course  he  was,"  said  the  jury  in  unison. 

"  Then  that  is  what  he  did.  Jake  Mills  fired 
first." 

"  Two  shots,"  said  Cotterell  in  a  low  voice,  but 
every  man  in  the  room  heard  him  distinctly. 

"  That  coloured  man  we  saw  yesterday  swore  that 
Cotterell  lay  in  wait  for  Mills,  and  fired  from  under 
cover  as  he  came  up  to  the  house,"  said  a  man  from 
Illinois  who  had  not  spoken  hitherto. 

"  Wal  now,"  said  the  Arkansas  man,  "  I  didn't 
say  nuthin'  'bout  that  yesterday.  Long  as  it  was  hoss- 
stealin'  we  knowed  whar  we  was  an'  what  we  hed 
ter  do,  'cause  we  hed  the  boss.  But  this  hyar  shootin' 
business  hain't  noways  the  same.    Any  gen'leman  hyar 


LYNCH  LAW.  245 

might  hev  a  difference  with  any  other  gen'leman,  an' 
's  long  as  it  were  done  fair,  I  don't  see  as  how  any- 
one hes  any  business  to  say  they  shouldn't  settle  it 
with  pistols  or  bowie-knives  accordin'  to  taste.  We 
are  all  for  freedom  in  this  country  I  reckon,  an'  that's 
how  it  hes  been  done  in  Arkansas  often  an'  satis- 
fact'ry." 

"  This  ain't  Arkansas,  an'  we  are  determined  to 
put  a  stop  to  this  shootin'  round  everyday,"  said  the 
Illinois  man  firmly.  "  It  ain't  respectable  and  it  stops 
quiet  settlers  from  coming  here  to  take  farms.  We 
are  going  to  stop  it." 

"  Then  you  should  have  stopped  Jake  Mills  when 
he  went  to  Mr.  Cotterell's  and  fired  at  him  first,"  said 
Olive  quickly. 

"  There's  somethin'  in  that,"  said  the  foreman, 
whose  native  gallantry  led  him  to  side  with  a  pretty 
woman.  "  In  a  trial  Ave  hev  to  consider  all  the  p'ints 
o'  the  case.  I  consider  that  as  for  the  horse-stealin', 
that  hes  mostly  broke  down  under  evidence.  We  must 
now  go  into  the  other  charge,  which  is  shootin'  Jake 
Mills,  an'  a  damned  scoundrel  he  was  too." 

The  jury  laughed  pleasantly  at  this  sally  from 
the  bench,  or  to  speak  more  accurately  from  the  sugar- 
barrel.  Even  Cotterell  seemed  a  trifle  amused,  only 
Olive  did  not  unknit  her  eyebrows,  nor  did  the  hard 
lines  around  her  mouth  in  the  least  relax. 

"  We  are  in  consider'ble  difficulty  'bout  this  here 
shootin'  case,"  continued  the  foreman  when  the  mirth 


216  PERFECTION  CITY. 

had  subsided,  "  and  if  I  had  knowed  as  that  was  all 
we  was  up  for  tryin',  I  don't  reckon  we  'ud  all  on  us 
ha'  been  here  as  is  now  collected  together  to  main- 
tain the  rights  an'  freedom  o'  our  country." 

The  jury  murmured  applause,  upon  recognising 
well-known  Fourth  of  July  phrases,  which  have  peren- 
nial power  to  stir  the  American  breast. 

"  Why  ain't  we  agoin'  on  with  this  blamed  trial?  " 
asked  an  impatient  jury-man.  "  We  hev  purty  nigh 
lost  a  whole  day's  work  a'ready  an'  hain't  finished 
nothin'  yit.  When  we  strung  up  ole  Howard  for  hoss- 
stealin'  we  hed  the  job  done  clar  up  afore  noon,  an' 
we  could  go  home  to  dinner  comfor'ble." 

Olive  gave  a  faint  inarticulate  cry  and  put  her 
hands  up  to  her  ears,  or  was  it  perchance  to  her  neck? 
Cotter  ell  turned  anxiously  towards  her  as  if  she  was 
going  to  faint,  and  he  would  catch  her  before  she  fell. 
She  steadied  herself  in  an  instant  and  again  faced  the 
jury  like  a  tiny  lioness,  small  in  body  but  with  uncon- 
querable courage. 

"  Well,  gen'lemen,  I'm  agreeable  to  proceed  with 
the  evidence,"  said  the  foreman  graciously. 

"  I  was  told  we  had  evidence  o'  deliberate  murder," 
said  the  Illinois  juror. 

"  We  most  on  us  hearn  what  the  nigger  said,"  re- 
marked another  carelessly,  "  some  on  us  fooled  roun' 
with  that  yesterday  an'  lost  a  fair  half  day's  work." 

"  Wal,  gen'lemen,  you  could  ha'  had  the  nigger 
again  here  to-day,  on'y  it  was  not  considered  neces- 


LYNCH  LAW.  247 

sary,  as  we  was  mostly  of  opinion  to  fin'  a  true  bill 
on  the  horse-stealin'  count.  We  can  sen'  for  the  nig- 
ger. He's  mos'  likely  sneakin'  roun'  here.  Them  nig- 
gers is  jes'  like  buzzards,  they  can  scent  out  where 
there's  a  hangin', — ahem,  gen'lemen,  we'll  proceed/' 
said  the  foreman,  suddenly  recollecting  himself  and 
Olive's  presence  barely  in  time. 

"  I  vote  for  sending  for  the  coloured  man,"  said 
the  Illinois  juror  firmly.  "  We'll  confront  him  with 
the  prisoner." 

"Nigger  be  damned!"  roared  the  Arkansas  nian 
jumping  violently  off  his  nail-keg.  "  Yo'  reckon  I'm 
agoin'  ter  sit  hyar  an'  see  a  white  man  hanged  on 
nigger  evidence.  No,  sir.  I  won't  stan'  such  a  in- 
sult to  my  race  as  that.  There  be  some  things  a 
man  o'  honour  won't  stan'  an'  that's  one  o'  them.  Thar 
hain't  no  man  spr3^er  to  light  out  an'  catch  a  hoss- 
thief  nor  I  be,  an'  I'll  do  my  dooty  in  the  hangin'  too, 
an'  hoi'  the  rope  as  tight  as  ony  o'  yo'all.  But  I'll 
bust  up  afore  I'll  take  nigger  evidence  'gin  a  white 
man.  I  reckon  there  hain't  none  o'  yo'  gen'lemen  as 
is  pertikler  sot  on  that  nigger,  be  yer?" 

Olive's  heart  gave  a  bound  of  joy  as  the  Arkan- 
sas juror  poured  forth  his  torrent  of  protest.  Alas, 
poor  Olive  and  her  high-flown  love  of  the  black  race! 
She  was  bound  to  confess  that  her  best  hope  for  ef- 
fecting the  end  she  was  struggling  for,  lay  in  the  blind 
race-prejudice  of  this  ignorant  Southerner. 

"  I  guess  we  ought  to  take  all  the  evidence,  white 


248  PERFECTION  CITY. 

or  black,  that  bears  on  the  case/'  observed  he  of  Illi- 
nois. 

"  If  that  thar  nigger  comes  inter  this  hyar  room 
to  conten'  with  this  hyar  jury  an'  give  his  evidence, 
I'll  shoot  him,  'fore  he  gits  over  that  door-sill,  so  I 
will,  by  God,  an'  no  man  as  knows  me  ever  said  I  went 
back  o'  my  word  in  shootin'." 

The  Arkansas  juror  faced  them  with  his  black 
eyes  ablaze  and  his  dark  visage  twitching  with  sup- 
pressed fury.  He  was  quivering  under  the  sting  of 
what  was  to  him  an  intolerable  insult,  and  there 
was  nothing  he  would  not  do  to  wipe  out  that  in- 
sult. 

Olive  looked  at  Cotterell  for  the  first  time,  and 
as  their  eyes  met  he  was  horrified  to  see  the  white, 
drawn  expression  on  her  face.  He  attributed  it  to  the 
very  natural  womanly  fear  that  she  might  be  involved 
in  a  promiscuous  shooting  affray  in  that  crowded  room. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,  they  wdll  not  bring  the  negro 
in  here,"  he  said  soothingly. 

"  I  am  not  afraid  for  myself,"  she  answered,  sim- 
ply and  truthfully. 

"  Wal,  gen'lemen,"  said  the  foreman  pleasantly. 
'^  I  reckon  we  hev  finished  for  this  spell  anyhow.  I 
consider  the  prisoner  hes  hed  as  fair  a  trial  as  ony  man 
could  wish,  and  I  hev  on'y  ter  thank  yer  all  for  yer 
help  upon  this  occasion  in  maintain'  the  laws  and  free- 
dom of  our  beloved  country,  as  belongs  to  the  duty  of 
free-born  citizens." 


LYNCH  LAW.  249 

"  Hurrah! "  said  the  jvlyj,  with  another  relapse 
into  Fourth  of  Julyism. 

"  We've  purty  nigh  lost  two  whole  days'  work  'long 
o'  this  hyar  foolin'/'  observed  the  Arkansas  man  angri- 
ly. '"  Them  coons  up  to  'Fection  City  is  nat'ral  born 
fools  anyhow.  Fust  they  blaze  roun'  an'  set  us  on  ter 
run  down  a  hoss-thief  fur  'em.  Soon  as  we've  done 
cotch  him,  they  sen'  roun'  a  woman  to  say  the  boss 
was  lent.  If  the  blamed  critters  come  to  me  again, 
reckon  I'll  stick  to  my  plough-handles.  I'll  not  light 
out  for  them,  you  bet."  And  he  immediately  walked 
out  of  the  store  followed  by  the  entire  jury  and  the 
foreman. 

When  the  Court  broke  up,  Olive  and  Cotterell  were 
left  alone  in  the  store  along  with  Phillipps,  the  store- 
keeper. The  latter  handed  Cotterell  his  revolver, 
which  the  jury  had  considerately  left  for  him. 

"  I  suppose  I'm  a  free  man,"  said  Cotterell,  with 
more  sign  of  emotion  in  his  manner  than  he  had  yet 
shown. 

"  Thanks  to  Mrs.  Weston  you  are  free,"  said  Phil- 
lipps. 

He  turned  to  Olive,  who  seemed  in  a  daze,  and 
said,  ^'  Shall  we  go  now?  " 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  and  they  left  the  store  to- 
gether. 

The  crowd  in  the  road  before  the  door  was  already 
fast  dispersing.  The  exciting  climax  for  which  they 
had  waited  was  not  to  come  off,  so  there  remained 


250  PERFECTION  CITY. 

no  further  inducement  to  stay.  Some  straggled  into 
the  smithy,  some  went  towards  the  mills,  but  most  of 
the  men  were  getting  their  horses,  putting  on  saddles, 
and  settling  halters  and  reins.  The  Arkansas  man 
had  a  waggon  and  was  hitching  his  horses  to  it,  as 
01iA%  riding  on  Rebel,  and  Cotterell  on  Queen  Kath- 
arine, passed  by. 

"Be  yo'  gwine  with  him?"  asked  the  Arkansas 
man,  pointing  to  Olive. 

"  Yes,"  said  Olive  shortly. 

"  Wish  we'd  hanged  the  damned  cuss  'fore  she 
come  in,"  said  the  Arkansas  man  regretfully  to  his 
companion,  who  had  also  been  present  at  the  trial. 
"  She's  gwine  ter  'lope  with  him,  an'  ole  man  Weston 
he  on'y  jes'  married  her  las'  spring." 

"  Reckon  she  don't  like  Tection  City  idees.  Gals 
mos'  allers  likes  a  fightin'  man  best,  an'  this  hyar  one 
is  reg'lar  downright  handsome  too." 

"  If  we'd  on'y  hed  a-hanged  him  she  couldn't  hev 
run  off  with  the  coon,"  repeated  the  Arkansas  man 
with  conviction,  shaking  his  head  sorrowfully  as  he 
watched  the  two  disappearing  among  the  trees  on  the 
South  Fork, 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

OLIVE  MISSING. 

Theee  was  dire  dismay  at  Perfection  City  when 
the  flight  of  Olive  became  known.  Napoleon  Pompey 
informed  Madame  of  it  the  same  evening,  but,  for 
reasons  best  known  to  herself,  she  did  not  announce 
the  fact  until  the  next  morning,  when  the  brethren 
and  sisters  flocked  to  her  house  to  talk  over  this  sur- 
prising event  in  all  its  bearings.  The  members  ac- 
counted for  it  in  different  ways  and  explained  it  ac- 
cording to  their  preconceived  notions.  Madame  at 
once  said  that  she  had  evidently  left  her  husband 
whom  she  had  never  really  loved  at  all. 

"I  think  we  must  all  have  noticed  how  utterly 
unsuited  she  was  to  him  and  how  uncongenial.  She 
was  no  fit  companion  for  a  man  of  Ezra's  mind,"  said 
Madame. 

"  Wal,  now,"  observed  Uncle  David,  "  I  think  such 
a  purty  little  gal  with  sweet  little  kitten-ways  was 
a  most   congenial   companion." 

"Uncle,  you  don't  understand  men.  Men  with 
minds  and  high  aspirations  want  a  companion  capable 

17  251 


252  PERFECTION  CITY. 

of  sharing  their  ideas  and  aims,  they  don't  want  a 
kitten  or  a  plaything." 

"  My  'pinion  is  most  men  is  satisfied  with  Ivittens, 
if  they're  as  soft  an'  coaxin'  in  their  ways  as  little 
Ollie  is/'  replied  Uncle  David. 

"  I  guess  she  couldn't  stand  the  bondage  of  mar- 
riage/' said  Mary  Winkle.  "  Wlien  she  first  came 
she  was  all  for  being  absorbed  in  her  husband,  she 
would  be  Mrs,  Weston  forsooth,  she  wanted  to  sink 
her  individuality.  She  has  naturally  found  out  her 
mistake.  I  respect  her  and  sympathize  with  her  in 
her  efforts  to  shake  off  the  trammels  of  custom  and 
make  a  dash  for  freedom.  I  dare  say  we  shall  soon 
have  her  coming  back  again,  having  resumed  her  own 
name,  and  perhaps  ready  to  lecture  on  the  absurdity 
of  women  giving  up  their  names  on  marriage,  as  if 
they  ceased  to  exist.  Marriage  under  these  circum- 
stances becomes  a  sort  of  death  to  a  woman.  It  is  ex- 
tinction." 

^'  'Tain't  no  such  thing.  Sister  Mary,"  said  Uncle 
David.  "  It  is  an  honourable  distinction  our  fore- 
fathers have  used,  findin'  the  same  handy  and  con- 
venient. I  don't  believe  little  Ollie  has  gone  a-lecter- 
in',  she  ain't  that  sort  o'  gal.  I  guess  she's  jes'  tired 
an'  lonesome  feelin',  an'  thought  she'd  ride  out  an' 
meet  Ezry  comin'  home." 

"  She  hasn't  done  that.  Uncle,  for  I've  seen  a  man 
from  over  Jacksonville  way,  and  he  told  me  she  had 
been  seen  the  other  side  of  Big  Cotton  Wood  Creek, 


OLIVE  MISSING.  253 

and  that  she  was  asking  for  news  of  Cotterell/'  said 
Brother  Wright. 

"  Then  she  has  gone  to  him/.'  said  Madame  with 
decision. 

"  She  hain't  neither,"  contradicted  Uncle  David, 
"  you  hain't  got  no  business  to  tell  wicked  stories  like 
that." 

"  She  has  been  carrying  on  a  secret  acquaintance 
with  him  all  the  summer.  I  know  that,  for  I  surprised 
them  together  at  the  spring  some  weeks  ago." 

"  She  didn't  do  nothin'  that  was  dishonest  an'  se- 
cret," said  Uncle  David  anxiously.  "  I  ain't  a-goin' 
ter  believe  anything  'gin  little  Ollie.  She's  a  good 
little  gal." 

He  wiped  his  forehead  nervously  with  his  large 
bony  hand,  and  then  took  out  his  red  handkerchief 
and  passed  it  several  times  across  his  face. 

"  The  power  of  love  is  strong,"  said  Madame,  look- 
ing at  him  with  compassion. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  he  replied  quickly,  "  jes'  what  I  say, 
an'  she  did  love  her  husban',  an'  hain't  done  nothin' 
wrong." 

"  She  didn't  love  him,"  burst  out  Madame  with 
excitement.  "  It  often  filled  me  with  anger  to  see 
how  she  took  all  his  love  and  made  no  return.  Every- 
one saw  it." 

^^  I  guess  the  rest  of  us  didn't  pay  so  much  atten- 
tion to  them  and  their  affairs.  We  had  our  own,"  said 
Mary  Winkle,  at  which  Madame  winced. 


254:  PERFECTION  CITY. 

"  You  don't  know  what  her  feelin's  was.  She  loved 
Ezry,  else  she  wouldn't  ha'  married  him  an'  followed 
him  way  out  here  on  this  lonesome  prairie.  I  ain't 
never  goin'  to  believe  wrong  o'  little  Ollie."  Uncle 
David's  big  chest  heaved  with  a  sob  that  would  burst 
out. 

Madame  placed  her  hand  gently  upon  his.  "  The 
falling  of  one's  idol  has  always  been  a  grievous  sor- 
row, and  has  bruised  many  a  loving  heart." 

"  She  wasn't  fit  to  live  here  on  the  prairie/'  said 
Aunt  Euby,  wiping  her  spectacles  with  her  big  checked 
handkerchief.  *'  She  was  too  young  an'  purty  an'  frol- 
icksome  to  be  here  anyhow.  Ezry  hed  ought  ter  hev 
kep'  her  in  the  East,  where  she  was  raised,  an'  where 
she  could  go  to  parties,  an'  put  on  purty  clo's,  an' 
dance,  an'  so  forth.  It's  nat'ral  for  them  young  gals 
to  dance  an'  love  fin'ry,  jes'  as  it's  nat'ral  for  lambs  to 
skip  an'  play  in  the  sunshine.  They  is  born  so,  an' 
I  guess  the  Lord  put  the  right  idees  into  their  min's 
at  the  beginnin'.  I  don'  wan'  ter  skip,  an'  Sister  Mary 
she  don't  wan'  ter  neither,  we  hev  got  ole  an'  stiff 
by  now;  but  that  chile  she  did  wan'  ter,  on'y  mos' 
likely  she  didn't  know  it.  Sweet  purty  little  thing,  too, 
she  was,  it  done  my  eyes  good  ter  look  at  her.  She 
wasn't  fit  for  'Fection  City,  we  hain't  got  nothin'  for 
young  folks  as  don't  care  mos'ly  to  argy  'bout  prin- 
ciples, they  loves  ter  be  gay.  Why,  it  wasn't  further 
back  nor  day  'fore  yesterday  she  come  ter  my  house 
'long  with  that  pup  o'  hern.     My  stars,  didn't  she 


OLIVE  MISSING.  255 

laugh  when  it  took  ter  scootin'  roun'  'mong  my  hens! 
It  done  me  a  heap  o'  good  ter  hear  her,  it  was  like 
a  silver  bell,  an'  she  hedn't  nothin'  for  to  amuse  her. 
I  think  it  was  down-right  sinful  o'  Brother  Ezry  to 
take  such  a  sweet  purty  little  thing  'way  from  her 
proper  home." 

Aunt  Euhy  ended  her  long  speech  with  the  twin- 
sob  to  the  one  that  had  escaped  from  Uncle  David. 

"  Sister,  you're  a  down-right  good  woman,"  said 
he  gratefully.  The  two  old  people  nodded  at  each 
other  in  complete  harmony  of  affection  and  affliction. 

A  long  day  passed  over  Perfection  City,  a  day 
without  any  positive  news  or  confirmation  of  previous 
rumours.  The  brethren  were  full  of  their  various 
theories  in  regard  to  Olive's  disappearance,  which  they 
found  necessary  to  discuss  and  re-discuss  over  and 
over  again.  All  work  was  at  a  stand-still,  for  the  mem- 
bers congregated  at  Madame's  house  both  early  and 
late,  as  they  considered  she  would  be  the  first  to  get 
any  news  from  the  outside  world.  Without  a  horse 
they  were  practically  cut  off  from  all  communication 
with  the  outside,  and  were  entirely  dependent  on  the 
thoughtfulness  of  such  neighbours  as  might  come  to 
bring  them  news.  It  was  in  the  afternoon  of  the  day 
of  the  abortive  trial  at  Union  Mills  that  the  first  au- 
thentic tidings  reached  them.  They  were  talking  the 
matter  over  together  for  the  fiftieth  time  when  Brother 
Green  was  seen  coming  very  hurriedly  from  his  forge 
along  with  a  stranger,  who  waited  outside  the  door 


256  PERFECTION  CITY. 

with  an  amount  of  diffidence  unusual  on  the  prairie. 
Brother  Green's  grimy  face  wore  a  look  of  alarm. 

"  We've  got  news  of  them  both/'  he  exclaimed, 
bursting  into  the  room  regardless  of  ceremony,  he  who 
was  generally  the  most  heedful  of  the  little  forms  of 
politeness.  "  She  has  gone  after  him,  and  they've  gone 
away,  and  he  stole  her  and  said  we  lent  her  to  him," 
said  Brother  Green  distractedly. 

"  Brother,  I  don't  understand,"  said  Madame. 
'^' Who  lent  what?     And  where  has  she  gone?" 

^'  I  mean  Sister  Olive — oh!  I'm  so  sorry — poor 
Brother  Ezra!— Sister  Olive  has  gone  off  with  Cot- 
terell,  and  it  was  he  who  stole  Queen  Katharine,  only 
it  was  proved  at  the  trial  that  she  lent  her  to  him." 

Brother  Green  was  too  distressed  to  be  a  good  wit- 
ness. 

"Who  told  you?"  asked  Madame. 

"  Whoever  did  told  a  lie,"  said  Uncle  David. 

"  He's  outside.  He  was  at  the  trial  and  has  come 
to  tell  us  about  it." 

"  Then  bring  him  in,"  said  Madame. 

The  stranger  entered,  looking  somewhat  abashed. 
He  was  truly  sorry  to  be  the  bearer  of  such  bad  tid- 
ings. 

"  Young  man,  before  you  begin  this  wicked  tale, 
I  charge  you  think  of  God  and  tell  the  truth."  Uncle 
David  stood  before  him  like  an  avenging  spirit. 

"  Sir,  excuse  him,"  said  Madame  in  her  sweet 
voice.    "  The  old  man  is  painfully  distracted  by  grief, 


OLIVE  MISSING.  257 

he  does  not  know  what  he  is  saying.    You  have  come 
to  bring  us  definite  news,  have  you  not  ?  " 

"  I'm  thund'rin'  sorry,  so  I  am,  an'  if  we'd  ha' 
knowed  how  it  would  ha'  ended,  the  boys  'ud  ha' 
made  sure  by  hangin'  him  fust  an'  havin'  the  trial 
a'terwards." 

^'  Are  you  speaking  about  Mr.  Cotterell  ?  We  have 
not  had  any  news  for  days,  so  perhaps  you  will  ex- 
plain it  all  clearly,"  said  Madame. 

"  Yes,  wal,  when  ole  man  Wright  come  an'  tole 
as  how  yer  boss  was  stole,  the  boys  they  'lowed  as 
you  was  all  such  damn — such  all-fired  pertikler  folks 
as  didn't  do  yer  own  shootin',  they  'lowed  they  oughter 
kinder  be  neighbourly  an'  do  it  for  yer.  So  we  sot 
out  to  run  down  the  cuss.  We  got  word  from  a  team- 
ster from  beyond  the  Creek,  he  seed  a  man  on  a  mare 
jes'  like  yourn  agoin'  toward  the  border.  So  we 
picked  up  the  trail  right  away.  He  warn't  worth  a 
red  cent  to  hide  a  trail.  He  jes'  follered  straight 
ahead  'long  the  road,  axin'  his  way  an'  follerin'  plumb 
on  the  d'rections.  Any  fool  could  ha'  run  down  such 
a  coon  as  him.  He  war  ridin'  yer  brown  mare  when 
they  come  up,  an'  he  didn't  show  fight,  jes'  said  he'd 
stan'  trial,  an'  he  'lowed  it  'ud  be  fair.  The  boys  cal- 
kerlated  it  wouldn't  be  a  fair  trial  'less  they  toted  him 
roun'  to  Union  Mills,  which  are  his  own  post-office, 
an'  if  that  ain't  treatin'  a  man  fair  nothin'  is.  An' 
they  got  a  new  set  o'  men  to  stan'  jury  as  what  cotch 
him,  'cause  mos'  on  'em  was  that  mad  for  leavin'  the 


258  PERFECTION  CITY. 

corn-sliuckin'  to  run  down  such  a  nat'ral-born  fool, 
they'd  ha'  mos'  hkely  strung  him  slap  up.  It  war  all 
done  fair,  we  kep'  him  down  to  Phillipps'  store  over 
night,  an'  I  tuk  a  spell  o'  stan'in'  guard.  We  didn't 
sen'  for  none  o'  yo'uns,  'cause  we  knowed  yer  be  all 
sot  agin  hangin',  an'  yer  can't  have  a  man  on  a  jury 
who's  sot  agin  hangin'  when  that's  all  yer  want  ter 
git  done,  can  yer?  So  we  was  a-tryin'  of  him  fair,  with 
ole  man  Strong  for  foreman  'cause  he  knowed  all  the 
forms,  as  he  was  out  to  the  hangin'  of  Howard  an' 
that  thief  over  to  Jacksonville  an'  mos'  on  'em.  He 
was  pertikler  to  do  it  all  straight  'cordin'  to  law,  an' 
we  was  gittin'  'long  slick,  when  Mis'  Weston  come  an' 
bust  it  all  up.  She  said  she  lent  him  the  lioss,  an'  it 
war  hern." 

The  narrator  stopped  to  observe  the  effect  of  this 
announcement.    He  felt  repaid. 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  sobbed  Uncle  David. 

"  I  hearn  her  say  it,"  said  the  man.  His  com- 
plete enjoyment  of  the  effect  was  marred  by  the  tears 
of  that  poor  old  man. 

'^  We  had  to  let  him  off,  o'  course,  for  the  stealin', 
an'  we  couldn't  hang  him  for  the  shootin'  o'  Jake 
Mills,  'cause  some  o'  the  boys  said  they'd  never  hang 
on  nigger  evidence,  an'  we  hadn't  none  other*  Any- 
how, that  nigger  he  drowned  hisself  in  lies  right  away, 
an'  w^e  didn't  lay  much  on  what  he  done  tole  us^  you 
bet.  But  we  was  powerful  sorry  a'terwards  when  we 
seen  what  we'd  done.    She's  gone  off  with  him  plumb." 


OLIVE  MISSING.  259 

*^  JSTo,  no,  not  that,"  said  Uncle  David,  "  tain't  soj 
you  didn't  un'erstan'." 

^^  We  axed  her  war  she  a-gwine  with  him,  an'  she 
said,  ^  yes,'  I  hearn  her  say  so." 

"She  was  on'y  goin'  home,"  said  Uncle  David 
tremulously. 

"  She  had  not  come  home  half  an  hour  ago,"  ob- 
served Madame. 

"  They  rode  'long  to  the  South  Fork,  an'  that  don't 
lie  on  her  road  home  from  Union  Mills,  do  it?  I 
stayed  behin'  at  the  Store,  the  boys  was  talkin'  if  they 
hadn't  bes'  go  right  a'ter  him  an'  shoot  him  anyhow, 
but  we  'lowed  he'd  ha'  showed  fight  then,  an'  maybe 
she'd  ha'  been  killed  in  the  shootin'.  Yer  can't  never 
say  who'll  be  hit  when  everybody's  firin'  like  blazes. 
I  didn't  quit  the  Mills  for  a  spell,  an'  mos'  the  boys 
was  'ready  gone  home,  an'  they  allowed  I  oughter  tell 
yer  we  done  our  best  for  yer." 

They  thanked  him,  and  he  went  his  way. 

"  Somebody  has  got  to  tell  Brother  Ezra,  he  will 
be  coming  home  to-night,"  said  the  blacksmith,  wip- 
ing his  sleeve  across  his  forehead.  "  Poor  Ezra!  What 
a  home-coming!  " 

Brother  Green  remained  silent  for  a  long  time, 
then  he  spoke  again  in  a  soft  low  voice,  almost  as  if 
he  was  communing  with  himself. 

"  When  I  laid  my  young  wife  in  her  grave  with 
her  babe  on  her  breast,  fifteen  years  ago  last  Mid- 
summer, I  thought  I  had  known  the  greatest  sorrow 


260  PERFECTION  CITY. 

possible  to  the  human  heart.  But  my  loss  was  not 
so  great  as  Brother  Ezra's,  his  cup  is  filled  to  the  brim, 
and  oh,  how  bitter!  How  great  a  power  of  suffering 
lies  in  the  human  heart! " 

"  It  is  through  suffering  that  the  heart  is  purified/' 
said  Madame  to  him  in  reply. 

"Aye,  so  they  say:  but  some  sorts  of  sorrow  may 
very  well  embitter.  People  talk  of  the  purifying  by 
sorrow.  It  seems  to  me  that  happiness  can  purify 
too.  We  are  all  sure  to  get  our  share  of  the  sorrow 
in  this  world,  it  is  the  happiness  that  so  seldom  comes 
to  a  man.  Brother  Ezra  was  happy,  is  happy,  poor 
man,  since  he  does  not  yet  know  of  the  wreck  of  his 
home.  It  was  a  delight  to  see  him  so  happy.  And  she, 
poor  young  thing,  my  heart  aches  for  her!  She  was 
in  my  forge  the  other  day,  said  she  was  lonesome  and 
came  to  talk.  Poor  child!  We  are  all  to  blame.  Why 
did  we  leave  her  alone?  Why  didn't  I  think  of  going 
to  see  her,  instead  of  merely  remembering  how  bright 
she  was  in  the  forge.  We  should  have  looked  after 
her.  Madame,  why  didn't  you  do  so?  You  are  the 
chief."  Brother  Green's  voice  had  a  stern  ring  in  it, 
that  immensely  surprised  Madame  in  her  self-con- 
tained calm. 

"I!"  she  exclaimed  hastily.  "I  had  absolutely 
no  control  over  her,  and  no  influence.  She  was  one 
of  the  most  determined  young  women  I  ever 
knew,  and  the  least  liable  to  yield  to  the  judgment  of 
others." 


OLIVE  Missma.  261 

^^No,  I  don't  think  that  was  her  character/'  said 
Brother  Green. 

^^You  are  taken  by  the  pretty  face,  hke  Brother 
Ezra,  and  are  utterly  ignorant  of  the  mind  within. 
Men  are  always  like  that  in  regard  to  a  pretty  wom- 
an/' said  Madame  scornfully. 

"Beauty  is  a  great  power,  no  doubt/'  admitted 
Brother  Green,  "but  people  may  err  just  as  widely 
by  judging  everything  from  the  prejudiced  point  of 
view  as  by  yielding  too  far  to  favourable  impres- 
sions." 

"Brother  Green,"  said  Uncle  David  earnestly, 
"  I'm  right  glad  you're  like  me,  you  won't  believe 
nothin'  'gainst  little  Ollie,  will  you,  no  more  than 
I  will?" 

"I  will  hope  for  the  best  and  that  there  may  be 
some  reasonable  explanation  of  her  disappearance/' 
said  Brother  Green,  looking  compassionately  at  the 
piteous  old  face  that  scanned  his  so  eagerly  for  some 
scrap  of  comfort. 

"  I  don't  see  what  explanation  there  can  be  but 
the  one  we  have  already  received,"  said  Madame 
icily. 

"Who  will  break  this  sorrowful  news  to  Ezra?" 
asked  Brother  Green.  "Will  you  do  it.  Uncle  David? 
You  would  do  it  tenderl}^,  as  you  have  faith  in  her 
still." 

"  No,  no,  I  couldn't  bear  to  see  the  look  o'  death 
in  his  eyes,  an'  it  'ud  come  no  matter  how  I  told  it, 


262  PERFECTION  CITY. 

when  I  came  to  sayin'  little  Ollie  was  gone  an'  we 
didn't  know  where." 

"  I  think  perhaps  I  had  best  take  this  painful  duty 
upon  myself,"  suggested  Madame. 

"  Well,  after  all,  maybe  you  are  the  best  person. 
But  remember  to  deal  tenderly  with  him  in  his  sor- 
row. You  will  know  what  to  say  to  instil  some  hope 
into  his  heart,"  said  Brother  Green  sadly. 

"  An'  don't  you  tell  him  she's  gone  off  with  that 
man  Cotterell,  for  she  hain't  done  no  such  thing,'' 
said  Uncle  David  anxiously.  "  Y^ou  jes'  say  we  don't 
know  why  she  went  away,  an'  kinder  hint  as  you're 
expectin'  she'll  be  home  to-morrow  or  nex'  day.  Do 
you  understand?  " 

;jiladame  told  no  one  what  she  would  say  to  Ezra, 
and  made  no  promises  as  to  how  she  would  say  it. 


CHAPTER   XX. 
madame's  sympathy. 

When  Madame  saw  the  white  covers  of  the  re- 
turning waggons  creeping  across  the  prairie  she  set 
out  to  meet  Ezra  in  order  to  deliver  her  message  to 
him.  Her  manner  was  as  quiet  and  collected  as  ever, 
her  white  smooth  hrow  was  perfectly  unruffled,  and 
her  hlue  eyes  were  as  gentle  in  expression  as  her 
friends  had  ever  known  them  to  be.  Was  her  heart 
in  reality  as  calm  as  her  outward  appearance  would 
have  led  the  casual  observer  to  conclude?  No  one 
ever  knew  what  was  passing  in  Madame's  mind.  Still 
she  must  have  known  that  she  was  about  to  stab  to 
the  heart  a  man  upon  whose  friendship  she  had  seemed 
to  set  great  value.  Having  reached  the  slope  over 
AYeddelFs  Gully,  whence  she  could  see  that  blackened 
field  where  she  had  saved  Ezra  on  the  night  of  the  fire, 
she  sat  down  and  waited  until  his  waggon  came'  up. 

"Ah,  Madame! ''  said  he  cheerily,  as  he  pulled  up. 
"How  glad  I  am  to  get  home  again!  It  has  seemed 
such  a  long  four  days  to  me.'' 

"And  to  us  also,"  answered  Madame. 

263 


26i  PERFECTION  CITY. 

"All  well;,  I  hope/'  said  Ezra  reaching  down  his 
hand  in  order  to  help  her  up  to  the  seat  beside  him- 
self. 

"  We  have  had  misfortunes  at  Perfection  City. 
The  brown  mare  has  been  stolen." 

"What!  Queen  Katharine  gone^,  and  our  most 
valuable  animal  too!     That  is  indeed  a  loss!" 

"  Just  wait  a  few  minutes/'  said  she,  putting  her 
hand  on  his  to  stop  him  from  giving  the  signal  to 
the  horses  to  start  on  again.  "  I  have  some  things 
to  talk  about,  Ezra.  Do  you  remember  that  night, 
not  long  ago  in  reality,  though  it  seems  an  age,  when 
I  found  you  lying  here  on  the  edge  of  the  fire  ?  " 

"  Is  it  likely  I  could  ever  forget  that  or  who  it 
was  came  to  my  rescue  ?  "  said  Ezra  warmly. 

"  I  was  thinking  as  you  drove  up  that  perhaps  it 
would  have  been  a  kinder  act  to  have  left  you  to  die 
in  your  unconsciousness." 

"  What's  the  matter?  "  said  Ezra,  greatly  startled 
by  her  words. 

"  I  have  bad  news,"  said  Madame. 

"Is  it  Olive?"  asked  Ezra,  hoarsely. 

"  Yes,  it  is  Olive." 

"Is  she  ill?" 

"  Worse  than  that." 

"My  God,  is  my  wife  dead?"  cried  Ezra  in  a 
stifled  whisper. 

"  Worse  than  that." 

"  There  can't  be  worse,"  said  Ezra. 


MADAME'S  SYMPATHY.  265 

"Yes,  there  can.  She  has  left  you  and  gone  off 
with  Cotterell." 

Ezra  threw  up  his  arms  and  fell  backwards.  Ma- 
dame thought  for  a  moment  or  two  that  he  was  dying, 
for  an  awful  blue-purple  look  passed  over  his  face 
as  if  his  heart  had  stopped  beating.  He  recovered 
himself  and  sat  up,  turned  ghastly  white,  and  moved 
his  lips.  He  was  trying  to  speak,  but  no  sound  came. 
At  length  he  gasped, 

"Olive,  Olive,  where  is  she?" 

"  We  don't  know.  Cotterell  took  the  brown  mare, 
the  men  turned  out  and  caught  him.  Olive  disap- 
peared, no  one  knew  where,  night  before  last,  taking 
our  last  horse.  There  was  a  sort  of  lynch-law  trial 
at  Union  Milh,  she  appeared  in  the  middle  of  the  pro- 
ceedings and  said  she  gave  him  the  horse,  and  then 
they  went  off  together  and  have  not  since  been  heard 
of." 

"  Olive,  Olive,  Olive! "  Ezra  kept  moaning  as 
Madame  drove  him  back  to  his  deserted  home.  He 
seemed  dazed  and  stupefied. 

Surely  terrible  news  was  never  more  crudely  broken 
to  a  sufferer  than  was  his  bereavement  to  Ezra  Weston, 
and  by  that  tender  and  sympathetic  friend,  Madame 
Morozoff-Smith.  Had  Uncle  David  or  Brother  Green 
heard  her,  they  would  have  been  shocked  be- 
yond measure  at  having  entrusted  the  painful  em- 
bassy to  such  hands.  Not  one  word  of  hope  or 
comfort   or   of   doubt   even,   nothing   but   the   bald 


266  PERFECTION  CITY. 

hideous  story  in  its  worst  complexion  thrown  at 
him. 

Olive  was  gone  from  him — gone  with  Cotterell! 

Yet  after  having  thus  dealt  him  a  death-blow, 
Madame  seemed  full  of  pity  and  little  acts  of  personal 
attention.  She  helped  him  out  of  the  waggon,  brought 
him  into  the  house,  took  his  hands  and  washed  them, 
cooled  his  forehead  with  a  wet  towel,  offered  him  food, 
and  in  short  treated  him  much  as  if  he  had  been  a 
suffering  child  whom  she  was  tending.  At  last  he 
seemed  to  recover  himself  somewhat  as  she  was  pass- 
ing her  soft  hand  across  his  brow. 

"  Y^ou  are  very  good  to  me,"  he  said  brokenly, 
"  and  if  I  seem  to  accept  your  kindness  unheedingly, 
forgive  me.  I  am  not  myself  to-night.  *I  don't  know 
what  I  am  doing.  Oh,  it  can't  be ! "  he  suddenly 
burst  out.  "  She  is  not  gone.  I  shall  see  her  again. 
She  will  come  back.  How  do  you  know  she  has  gone 
with  him?    I  don't  believe  it." 

"  Poor  Ezra,  love  dies  hard,  I  know.  Some  of 
the  men  asked  if  she  was  going  with  him,  and  she 
answered  distinctly,  ^  Yes.'  Then  they  were  sorry, 
they  said,  they  had  not  hung  him  before  she  came 
up  with  them." 

"  No,  I  won't  believe  it.  Something  has  happened 
to  her.  Why  should  she  go  off  with  him  ?  "  said  Ezra 
distractedly. 

"  Did  you  not  know  that  he  was  repeatedly  here 
to  see  her,  whenever  you  were  out  of  the  way?"  said 


MADAMES  SYMPATHY.  267 

Madame,  who  did  not  think  she  was  exaggerating  in 
any  way. 

"  She  told  me  all  that/'  answered  Ezra  nervously, 
"  but  she  was  only  amused  by  his  talk." 

"  No,  your  love  is  blind.  Dear  Ezra,  I  wish  I 
could  soften  the  blow.  There  is  no  doubt  about  it. 
I  saw  them  once  together  at  the  spring,  he  kissed  her 
at  parting.  It  was  a  man  and  the  woman  he  loved. 
I  cannot  be  mistaken.  Remember  he  was  v^y  hand- 
some and  winning  in  his  manners,  and  she  was  young 
and  pretty." 

^^Ah,  my  sweet  little  Ollie!  My  little  rose-bud," 
cried  Ezra,  starting  to  his  feet.  "  I'll  go  to  her,  she 
shall  not  wander  away  out  of  my  reach  without  one 
effort  to  save  her  from  herself.  She  was  only  a  child. 
Why  didn't  you  look  after  her?"  he  asked,  suddenly 
facing  Madame  with  an  angry  glance. 

^^  Did  you  give  her  into  my  charge  either  by  word 
or  hint  ?  "  returned  she,  somewhat  taken  aback. 

*^  It  was  not  your  fault.  Forgive  me.  I  am  too 
distracted  to  know  what  I  say.  I  remember  she  re- 
fused to  go  to  you.  She  said  she  would  rather  stay 
at  home.  I  tried  to  urge  her,  but  she  would  not  con- 
sent to  it,"  said  Ezra  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Ah,"  remarked  Madame,  ^'  very  possibly  she  ex- 
pected him  to  come  to  her  during  your  absence." 

"  N'o,  no,  you  shall  not  say  that ! "  said  Ezra  in 

agony.    "  I  cannot  bear  it.    She  had  no  such  thought. 

She  was  as  innocent  as  the  flowers,  as  she  looked  at  me 
18 


268  PERFECTION  CITY. 

with  her  sweet  eyes.  She  had  no  such  thought,  I 
Ifnow." 

"  It  is  ever  thus,"  said  Madame,  coming  closer  to 
him  and  speaking  wdth  an  unwonted  tremor  in  her 
voice.  "  Love  seems  always  at  cross  purposes.  You 
give  all  your  love  to  Olive,  who  gives  all  hers  to  Cot- 
terell.  Another  gives  all  her  love  to  you.  We  are 
equally  unhappy." 

Ezra  gazed  at  her  in  silent  amazement  as  if  he 
were  doubting  that  he  had  understood  her. 

"  Y^es,"  she  went  on  more  calmly  in  her  deep  sweet 
voice.  "  I  am  more  in  need  of  pity  than  you.  Your 
love  has  left  you,  and  you  grieve,  but  men  will  give 
you  sympathy.  When  I  lost  my  love  I  had  to  smile 
and  pretend  delight.  I  had  to  look  on  his  joy  and 
hers.  Y"ou  are  not  called  upon  to  congratulate  Cot- 
terell  on  his  happiness." 

"Great  God,  is  that  you,  Madame?  Or  is  it  that 
I  am  going  mad,  and  is  this  some  mocking  fiend?" 
gasped  Ezra,  starting  up. 

"  Not  a  mocking  fiend,  Ezra,  but  I  myself  who 
for  once  in  this  world  am  enjoying  the  rare  privilege 
of  telling  the  truth.  Ezra  Weston,  you  are  not  the 
most  unhappy  person  in  Perfection  City.  I  have  long 
enjoyed  that  melancholy  pre-eminence.  Now  in  a 
common  misfortune  let  us  comfort  one  another." 

Ezra  sat  down  again  and  dropped  his  head  in  his 
hands.  Occasionally  he  looked  at  her  as  she  moved 
about  the  room  putting  everything  in  order.     It  al- 


MADAME'S  SYMPATHY.  269 

most  seemed  as  if  he  was  trying  to  "understand  who 
she  was  and  that  he  could  hardly  do  so,  his  mind  was 
in  such  a  turmoil  of  grief  and  misery.  She  laid  out 
two  more  candles  beside  those  already  alight  in  the 
candle-sticks. 

"  You  will  sit  up  all  night/'  she  said  at  last. 
"  These  candles  will  last  half  the  time,  then  light  the 
other  two.  It  is  hard  sitting  in  the  dark  alone  with 
one's  breaking  thoughts.  Light  the  candles  and  keep 
them  burning.  That  is  what  I  did  on  the  night  you 
left  to  go  to  Smyrna  to  be  married,  and  on  the  night 
when  you  brought  her  home  here  to  Perfection  City." 

She  closed  the  door  and  left  him  alone  with  those 
two  thoughts.  Was  it  her  marvellous  reading  of  the 
human  heart  which  prompted  this  extraordinary 
woman  to  declare  her  love  to  Ezra  in  those  bold  un- 
compromising words  on  this  night  of  all  others  in 
his  life?  She  knew  that  he  would  sit  there  in  his 
deserted  home,  brooding  over  his  lost  wife,  she  knew 
also  that  every  now  and  then  the  scorching  recollec- 
tion of  what  she  had  said  would  break  in  upon  the 
brooding  thoughts  and  scatter  them.  This  then  was 
the  means,  the  almost  unheard-of  means,  she  had 
taken  in  order  to  soften  the  blow  that  had  fallen  upon 
him.  He  would  not  be  able  to  think  of  himself  as  the 
most  unhappy  individual  in  Perfection  City,  because 
she  had  claimed  that  distinction  in  words  which  he 
never  could  forget.  It  was  just  as  she  had  foreseen. 
It  repeatedly  happened  during  the  course  of  that  long 


270  PERFECTION  CITY. 

and  dreadful  night  that  Ezra  forgot  why  he  was  sitting 
alone  in  the  kitchen^  so  lost  was  he  in  amazement  at 
the  recollection  of  the  words  which  Madame  had 
spoken.  As  the  hours  wore  on  it  seemed  to  him  that 
they  became  more  and  more  impossible,  until  he  began 
to  think  of  them  as  the  work  of  a  brain  unhinged  by 
sorrow.  Was  it  all  a  hideous  dream,  and  would  he 
awake  by  and  bye?  The  first  pair  of  candles  burned 
out,  and  he  lighted  the  second  pair,  recalling  as  he 
did  so  what  she  had  said  she  did  when  he  brought 
Olive  home.  Ah,  Olive,  Olive!  His  heart  kept  call- 
ing out  in  its  misery. 

He  went  into  their  little  private  room  off  the 
kitchen,  in  a  sort  of  infatuation  to  see  if  she  might 
be  there.  No.  All  was  silent,  still,  deserted.  He  ex- 
amined the  tiny  room  minutely,  saw  the  half -withered 
flowers  on  the  table,  took  them  up,  and  would  have 
kissed  them  in  his  misery,  only  his  eye  lighted  on  a 
strange  object  he  had  never  seen  before.  It  was  a 
man's  heavy  seal-ring.  He  picked  it  up  and  exam- 
ined it  by  the  light  of  the  candle:  a  plain  gold  ring 
set  with  a  well-cut  onyx  intaglio  of  a  griffin's  head. 
As  he  turned  it  about  the  light  showed  something 
engraved  in  the  inside  of  the  ring.  He  held  the  candle 
nearer  and  read  '^  J.  G.  C." 

He  dropped  the  ring  as  if  it  had  been  an  adder, 
and  fled  out  of  the  room.  As  if  pursued  by  furies, 
he  rushed  from  the  house  and  wandered  about  out 
of  doors.      Diana,  who  since   Olive's  departure  had 


MADAME'S  SYMPATHY.  271 

been  in  a  most  miserable  frame  of  mind,  followed 
him  about  dejectedly,  with  her  tail  between  her  legs. 
Ezra,  turning,  saw  the  dog  and  for  one  moment  felt 
a  savage  desire  to  kill  it,  for  Olive  had  loved  the  dog 
and  Olive  had  broken  his  heart.  This  phase  passed, 
and  in  a  passion  of  grief  and  despair  he  stooped  and 
kissed  the  animal,  for  Olive  had  often  patted  Diana's 
head,  and  fondled  her  long  ears.  The  dog  whined 
in  sympathy  and  turned  suggestively  back  to  the  house. 
Ezra  followed  mechanically.  He  would  not  go  into 
the  room  where  that  ring  lay,  but  remained  in  the 
kitchen.  Exhausted  nature  could  stand  no  more,  and 
towards  morning  he  fell  into  a  troubled  sleep,  with 
his  head  resting  upon  his  arms  crossed  on  the  table. 
Then  in  his  dreams  Olive  came  back  to  him  in  that 
vivid  yet  unsatisfying  way  in  which  our  dearest  do 
sometimes  return  to  us,  seemingly  but  to  mock  our 
grief.  Olive  was  there,  standing  before  him,  but  she 
looked  at  him  not  with  her  eyes,  but  with  Madame's. 
There  was  something  terrible  in  seeing  her  own  ex- 
pression gone  and  in  its  place  the  look  of  another, 
and  yet  it  was  Olive,  and  she  called  on  him  to  fol- 
low her.  He  hurried  after  her  with  the  lead-clogged 
feet  that  always  walk  in  dreams,  and  strained  to  reach 
her.  When  he  did  so,  he  found  Madame.  Olive  and 
Madame  flitted  before  his  fevered  fancy,  always  shift- 
ing and  changing  one  into  another,  until  he  panted 
with  the  horror  of  it. 

He  awoke  with  a  start  as  the  door  opened.     His 


272  PERFECTION  CITY. 

half-aroused  eyes  saw  a  vaguely  defined  figure  in  the 
door-way,  blocking  out  the  light  of  the  morning. 

"  Olive/'  he  said,  putting  out  his  hand  blindly. 

"I  have  come  to  cook  your  breakfast/'  said 
Madame's  soft  smooth  voice. 

"  Don't.  I  can't  eat  it/'  said  Ezra,  falling  back 
into  despair. 

"  Life  must  go  on,  even  when  all  joy  is  banished 
from  it/'  she  said.  "  We  have  each  one  of  us  to  learn 
that  lesson,  friend  Ezra." 

She  began  deftly  enough  to  light  the  fire  and  make 
the  necessary  preparations  for  breakfast.  Madame 
knew  how  to  do  the  ordinary  house-work  that  falls 
to  woman's  lot,  only  she  did  not  choose  to  do  it  in 
her  own  home.  Therefore  she  employed  Lucinda  for 
this  purpose,  until  other  and  stronger  motives  arose 
which  prompted  her  to  undertake  the  work  herself. 
The  habit  of  every-day  life  is  strong,  and  when  Ezra 
saw  Madame  getting  breakfast  ready,  as  a  matter  of 
course  he  arose  and  got  himself  ready,  by  changing 
his  clothes  and  generally  performing  the  necessary 
preliminaries  to  the  morning  meal.  He  was  less  wild 
and  hollow-eyed  after  this  ceremony,  but  the  extraor- 
dinary drawn  and  aged  look  on  his  face  seemed  only 
the  more  marked. 

Madame  cooked  an  omelette  with  scraps  of  savoury 
dried  beef  in  it,  and  after  the  first  mouthful  Ezra 
was  obliged  to  admit  that  he  relished  the  food.  He 
could  not  go  on  living  on  his  grief,  as  Madame  said. 


MADAME'S  SYMPATHY.  273 

She  sat  with  him  and  took  her  breakfast  also.  Na- 
poleon Pompey,  who  would  have  been  in  the  way, 
was  relegated  to  the  society  of  his  mother,  who  divided 
her  emotions  between  maternal  anger  at  bo3dsh  short- 
comings and  maternal  love  for  the  short-comer,  both 
of  which  were  expressed  with  the  exalted  vehemence 
customary  to  the  negro  nature. 

"  I  shall  come  each  day  and  cook  your  food  for 
you.  I  have  often  longed  to  be  able  to  do  something 
for  you,  Ezra.  Do  not  forbid  my  coming.  I  have 
had  so  little  joy  in  my  life,"  said  Madame,  with  a 
strange  humility  of  manner  totally  at  variance  with 
her  usual  character,  which  was  almost  domineering, 
one  might  say.  Ezra  looked  at  her  in  a  troubled 
sort  of  way.  It  soothed  him  to  have  her  there,  and 
he  was  glad  that  somebod}^,  that  anybody,  could  take 
an  interest  in  him.  Still  there  came  across  his  mind 
flashes  of  doubt  as  to  what  this  interest  meant.  He 
could  not  forget  those  words  that  Madame  had  used 
on  the  evening  before.  No  man  who  had  ever  heard 
such  words  from  a  woman's  lips,  if  ever  man  did 
hear  them  under  similar  circumstances,  would  ever 
again  be  able  to  drive  them  from  his  memory,  but 
in  his  bruised  and  suffering  state  Ezra  was  content 
to  drift  on  and  let  things  rest.  So  Madame  came 
daily  to  his  house  and  cooked  his  food  and  saw  that 
he  ate  something  at  each  meal. 

Uncle  David  and  the  brethren  came  to  see  him, 
but  that  gave  him  no  comfort.     He  shrank  from  their 


274  PERFECTION  CITY. 

sympathy,  expressed  with  kindness,  but  each  word  was 
like  a  drop  of  molten  lead  upon  a  raw  wound.  Will- 
ette  was  perhaps  the  only  one  who  gave  him  real  con- 
solation in  this  awful  time. 

"  I  say,"  remarked  the  child,  in  a  clear  voice  and 
without  a  trace  of  embarrassment,  "  Sister  Ollie's  gone 
an^  lost  herself  down  there  in  the  bush,  I  reckon.  She 
was  'bout  the  greenest  hand  at  keepin'  to  the  Pole 
Star  ever  I  see.  You  could  throw  her  out  o'  her  direc- 
tion quicker  nor  nothin'.  I  guess  she  headed  plumb 
for  the  Missouri  border  when  she  come  'long  with 
Cotterell  to  show  him  out  o'  Union  Mills.  Guess  she'll 
ride  'bout  down  to  Saint  Jo  'fore  she  knows  she's 
headin'  wrong.  I  wouldn't  's]3ect  her  back  'fore  a 
fortnight."  Willette  laughed  pleasantly,  and  poor 
Ezra  derived  some  comfort  from  the  preposterous  con- 
victions of  the  child  and  her  unshakable  belief  in 
Dlive. 

He  went  to  Union  Mills  to  make  some  inquiries 
about  his  lost  wife,  and  met  there  the  same  story 
that  Madame  had  already  told,  but  the  story  was 
so  brutally  hurled  at  him  he  could  not  bear  it,  and 
came  home  bruised  and  stricken,  his  heart  bleeding 
tears  of  agony.  Instinctively  he  went  to  Madame 
for  comfort. 

"  Ezra,  perhaps  this  terrible  trial  was  needed  to 
purify  us  all,  to  make  us  all  more  perfect  commu- 
nists. I  can  discern  a  valuable  lesson  that  may  be 
of  profit  to  the  brethren.    I  begin  to  think  that  after 


MADAME'S  SYMPATHY.  275 

all  marriage  is  selfish:  perfect  love  alone  is  unselfish. 
Y^ou  would  not  have  kept  Olive  heside  you  by  force, 
if  her  heart  had  gone  from  you,  would  you?  " 

"  I  thought  our  marriage  was  for  life/' 

"Y^es,  but  she  made  a  mistake  as  to  her  feelings; 
she  found  she  loved  someone  else  better.  It  was  wise 
of  her,  after  all,  to  break  the  bond.  It  would  only 
have  galled  you  both." 

"I  should  have  been  content  if  she  had  only  let 
me  love  her,"  said  Ezra. 

"Ah  yes,  I  know  that  feeling  but  too  well,"  said 
Madame,  bringing  his  mind  with  a  shock  to  the 
thought  that  she  never  long  allowed  to  sleep. 

"  It  is  a  terrible  world,"  said  Ezra  beginning  to 
realize  what  a  spell  she  was  weaving  around  him. 

*^  It  rests  with  ourselves  to  make  it  easier  in  the 
only  wa}^,"  replied  Madame. 

Uncle  David  took  up  a  firm  position  of  his  own 
and  refused  to  listen  to  anybody  or  anything. 

"I  hain't  a-goin'  to  b'lieve  nothin'  'gin  little 
Ollie,"  he  announced.  "  I  don't  care  'bout  proofs  an' 
things.  Land!  If  I  b'lieved  in  proofs  there  hain't  no 
sort  o'  foolishness  I  shouldn't  be  up  to.  I  b'lieve  in 
pussons." 

That  was  his  position,  and  he  stuck  to  it  with  un- 
swerving fidelity.  He  was  happy  in  his  blind  faith, 
and  no  one  tried  to  shake  it.  The  old  man  then  began 
a  strange  sort  of  hunt  after  Olive.  He  would  sit  all 
day  long  at  the  forge,  where,  of  course,  strangers  were 


276  PERFECTION  CITY. 

most  likely  to  pass,  and  to  each  he  would  put  ques- 
tions ahout  the  "little  gal"  he  was  so  pathetically 
seeking.  He  spoke  little,  he  who  used  to  be  so  chatty, 
but  sat  hour  after  hour  in  silent  patient  expectation 
of  the  return  of  his  loved  one.  The  brethren  began 
to  think  he  must  be  losing  his  wits  from  sorrow,  poor 
old  man! 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE   MESSAGE. 

A  LONG  weary  fortnight  had  passed  since  the  day 
when  Ezra  came  home  to  find  his  wife  gone.  Life 
went  on  at  Perfection  City  much  the  same  as  before, 
although  to  him  it  seemed  as  if  the  Universe  was 
out  of  gear.  He  took  no  part  or  interest  in  the  daily 
affairs  of  the  Community,  never  coming  to  the  As- 
sembly or  consulting  with  the  brethren  upon  any  mat- 
ters. He  withdrew  himself  from  the  companionship 
of  his  fellows,  and  only  that  Madame  continued  to 
come  to  his  house  every  day  in  order  to  cook  his  dinner 
and  sit  with  him  while  he  ate  it,  he  would  have  been 
absolutely  alone.  Ezra  acquiesced  in  her  devotion, 
and  dared  not  ask  himself  how  the  debt  was  to  be  re- 
paid that  she  was  piling  up  against  him.  The  Pioneers, 
who  during  the  past  fortnight  had  revelled  in  a  per- 
fect carnival  of  gossip,  felt  themselves  at  liberty  to 
express  an  opinion  upon  this  new  development  of  the 
drama  that  was  being  acted  in  their  midst.  Sister 
Carpenter  said  to  Sister  Winkle  that  she  thought  there 
ought  to  be  a  period  of  mourning  allowed,  however 

27? 


278  PERFECTION  CITY. 

brief,  between  first  and  second  marriage,  and  that 
Brother  Ezra  liadn't  ouglit  to  go  a-courting  so  soon. 
Slie  did  not  know  tliat  it  was  Madame  wlio  did  tlie 
courting  in  that  strange,  forward,  imperial  way  that 
we  must  suppose  the  Empress  Katharine  affected. 
Uncle  David,  whom  love  for  Olive  had  rendered  ex- 
tremely keen-sighted  as  to  what  was  going  on,  evinced 
very  great  displeasure.  Madame  had  no  right  to  try 
and  make  Ezra's  home  happy,  and  he  told  her  so  in 
language  of  unmistakable  import.  She  was  angry 
to  a  degree  that  terrified  him,  and  he  shrank  back 
alarmed  beyond  measure  at  the  wrath  which  he  had 
provoked. 

"  Yes,  I  know,  you  want  Ezra's  life  to  be  wrecked 
by  that  vain,  selfish  little  hussy  who  never  cared  for 
him,  and  who  went  off  with  the  first  gallant  that 
beckoned  to  her.  Ezra's  life  shall  not  be  wrecked, 
mine  shall  be  expended  in  drawing  it  into  a  haven 
of  rest.  Olive  is  not  worthy  of  tying  the  latchet  of 
his  shoe.  I  hope  she  will  be  cast  off  by  her  lover,  and 
left  to  sink  amid  the  mud  and  mire  of  such  as  she. 
I  hate  her!  " 

Uncle  David  was  frightened  and  crept  away  to 
Brother  Green,  where  he  sat  hour  after  hour  mourn- 
fully watching  the  fire.  It  was  on  one  of  these  days 
when  he  was  in  the  forge  that  a  young  negro  on  a 
raw-boned  Indian  pony  rode  up  to  Madame,  who  was 
on  the  point  of  starting  for  her  daily  expedition  to 
Ezra's,  and  inquired  "  whar  ole  man  Weston  lived," 


THE  MESSAGE.  279 

as  he  had  a  message  for  him.  Instead  of  answering 
directly,  Madame  endeavoured  to  find  out  what  the 
boy  wanted  of  Ezra.  The  Uttle  darkie  thereupon  pro- 
duced a  scrap  of  crumpled  paper  from  the  recesses 
of  his  ragged  shirt  and  informed  Madame  he  wanted 
to  give  him  ^^  dat  ar'."  Madame  took  the  paper,  opened 
it,  and  gave  a  gasp.  Then  in  a  moment  she  recovered 
herself  with  an  effort,  and  assured  the  negro  it  was  all 
right,  and  that  she  would  see  to  it.  She  made  most 
particular  inquiries  as  to  where  he  lived,  and  then 
sent  him  off,  happy  with  a  piece  of  corn-bread  and  a 
dollar  for  himself. 

Having  thus  got  rid  of  the  negro  lad,  Madame 
proceeded  on  her  way  to  Ezra's  house  in  order  to 
perform  her  daily  task  there.  She  seemed  strangely 
excited,  and  her  blue  eyes  glittered  like  sapphires. 
Her  whole  bearing  was  that  of  a  person  labouring 
under  intense  excitement,  all  traces  of  which  she  was 
endeavouring  to  conceal.  Her  very  voice  had  a  new 
ring  in  it  as  she  talked  with  Ezra,  and  her  breath  came 
quick  and  fast.  Had  his  senses  been  less  dulled  by 
suffering,  he  could  not  have  failed  to  notice  the  change 
in  her,  notwithstanding  her  efforts  at  concealment. 
He  was  sitting,  looking  with  unseeing  eyes  across  the 
vacant  cornfield,  wdien  suddenly  she  spoke. 

"  Ezra,  let  us  go  away  from  this  place.  Let  us 
leave  all  the  recollections  of  Perfection  City  behind 
us,  and  begin  life  afresh." 

He  turned  his  eyes  upon  her  with  a  slow  ques- 


280  PERFECTION  CITY. 

tioning  look,  showing  how  far  away  had  been  his 
thoughts  at  the  moment. 

"  How  can  we  leave  this  place  ?  There  is  too 
much  money  and  too  much  labour  sunk  in  it  for  us 
all  to  leave  and  go  to  some  other  spot." 

"  Not  all,  dear  friend,  only  you  and  I/'  said  Ma- 
dame, in  her  caressing  voice. 

Ezra  started.  ^^  That  is  even  more  impossible,"  he 
said,  in  great  agitation. 

"  Why  impossible  ?  I  have  money.  It  will  more 
than  suffice  for  all  our  needs,  nay,  it  will  give  us 
all  the  luxuries  we  can  sigh  for." 

"  It  is  not  that,  but  you  forget " 

"  No,  Ezra,  I  don't  forget,  but  I  want  you  to  for- 
get. I  want  you  to  draw  a  wet  sponge  over  the  recol- 
lection of  the  past  and  begin  anew.    It  is  not  too  late." 

"  You  don't  know  what  you  are  saying,  Madame. 
You  cannot  mean  it." 

"  I  do  mean  it,  and  I  know  what  it  means.  You 
have  no  tie " 

Ezra  shivered. 

"  Neither  have  I.  We  are  both  free  to  make  our 
lives  what  we  list." 

"  You  mistake,  we  are  both  tied  by  all  our  past 
lives,  and  with  bonds  that  may  not  be  lightly  broken. 
We  are  tied  by  our  own  feelings  as  well  as  by  the 
good  opinion  of  the  world  at  large." 

Madame  snapped  her  fingers  with  scorn. 

"  That  for  the  world  at  large  and  its  opinions. 


THE  MESSAGE.  281 

Do  you  remember  what  I  told  you  about  my  father 
and  my  birth?  Thank  God,  I  have  no  name  to 
lose." 

"  I  cannot  do  less  than  tell  you  the  truth/'  said 
Ezra  in  great  distress.  "  Wherever  I  went  my  heart 
would  remain  here,  where  I  have  known  true  happi- 
ness, and  it  will  always  be  looking  for  my  lost  one  to 
come  back  to  me." 

"  She  won't  come  back  till  Cotterell  is  tired  of  her," 
said  Madame  brutally.  "  Will  you  be  grateful  for 
his  cast-off  mistress?  " 

"  Stop,"  said  Ezra,  putting  his  hand  quickly  be- 
fore her  lips,  "  you  must  not  speak  so  of  her  to  me." 

"  Fool  that  I  am!  "  muttered  Madame  under  her 
breath.    She  turned  from  him  with  a  gesture  of  anger. 

"  Oh,  forgive  me,"  exclaimed  Ezra,  seeing  and  feel- 
ing what  the  expression  meant.  "  Never  was  man  so 
miserable,  never  was  one  so  unhappily  placed.  I  owe 
you  more  than  words  can  say,  I  owe  you  my  best 
thoughts,  I  owe  you  my  very  life  itself.  I  would  will- 
ingly give  you  my  life " 

"  Then  why  not  give  it  and  come  with  me  ? " 
burst  out  Madame.  "  Leave  all  this  misery  behind 
you,  I  will  make  your  path  as  smooth  as  heart  could 
wish.    Come." 

"  My  heart  can  never  follow  any  other  path,  it 
will  dwell  amid  the  ruins  of  its  former  happiness. 
Do  not  speak  again  of  this.  Let  us  remain  friends 
as  before." 


282  PERFECTION  CITY. 

'''  It  can  never  be  again  as  it  was  before/'  said 
Madame  with  heaving  bosom. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  Ezra.  "  I  have  not  much  else 
left  in  life." 

"  Why  not/'  repeated  Madame  in  scorn.  "  You 
ask  me  why  not!  Would  you  care  for  Olive's  friend- 
ship when  all  her  love  was  given  to  Cotterell  ?  " 

"  Stop/'  cried  Ezra,  and  this  time  there  was  a 
ring  of  anger  in  his  voice.  "  Even  you  may  pre- 
sume too  far.     Do  not  again   speak  that  name  to 


me." 


There  is  something  untamed  and  untameable  in 
the  Eussian  nature  which  now  and  then  comes  to  the 
surface  and  drives  an  excited  Muscovite  into  acts  seem- 
ingly at  variance  with  the  highly  cultivated  standard 
to  which  he  aspires.  The  phenomenon  may  by  the 
learned  be  attributed  to  a  sudden  reversion  to  the 
ancestral  Asiatic  savage.  Madame  was  at  this  moment 
rapidly  going  back  to  the  state  of  furious  anger,  when 
all  sense  of  dignity  would  be  lost.  She  was  reverting 
to  the  Asiatic.  And  under  the  influence  of  her  pas- 
sion her  physical  appearance  changed,  her  eyes  be- 
came narrow  slanting  openings  emitting  sparks  of 
steel-blue  flame,  her  full  red  lips  were  drawn  tightly 
over  her  teeth.  She  hissed  out  her  words. 
"Does  her  image  still  come  between  us?" 
"  It  does  come  between  us,"  said  Ezra  looking  al- 
most as  white*  as  she  did.  "  Her  image  will  always 
come  between  me  and  every  other  woman  on  the  whole 


THE  MESSAGE.  283 

earth,  blotting  out  every  other  image  and  making 
me  only  hers.    Oh,  Olive!    Oh,  my  wife!  " 

He  gave  a  great  sob  of  agony. 

"Besotted  fool!"  burst  from  Madame's  colourless 
lips,  "  do  you  hold  this  language  to  me  ?  You  scorn 
me  and  my  love!  Then  on  your  own  head  be  the  con- 
sequences. Ah,  now  nothing  shall  stop  me.  An  angel 
from  heaven,  no,  nor  God  Himself  shall  stand  be- 
tween me  and  my  revenge.     Ezra  Weston,  farewell!  " 

She  left  the  room,  shutting  the  door  upon  him 
and  his  misery.  Unhappy  man!  His  world  seemed 
crumbling  beneath  his  feet.  He  had  lost  his  wife, 
and  now  his  friend,  the  one  whom  he  most  revered, 
had  cast  him  out  from  her  regard.  What  could  he 
do?  His  heart  answered,  nothing  but  dumbly  suffer 
in  the  deserted  home  where  he  was  left  alone.  What 
a  black  and  barren  waste  was  his  life!  And  how  fair 
and  smiling  it  had  looked  a  few  short  weeks  ago! 
It  was  as  if  a  devastating  tire  had  passed  over  him 
leaving  his  heart  like  the  desolated  prairie,  black  and 
hopeless. 

Madame  went  away  alone  for  one  day,  no  one 
knew  whither,  and  came  back  with  a  look  on  her 
face  tliat  struck  terror  into  all  who  saw  her.  Her 
smooth  white  face  looked  cruel  and  pitiless,  and  the 
gleam  from  her  eyes  reminded  one  of  cold  steel.  Her 
soft  hands  sometimes  closed  on  their  own  pink  palms 
with  a  spasmodic  clutch,  as  if  she  had  the  throat  of 
an  enemy  between  their  cruel  grasp  and  was  crushing 
19 


284  PERFECTION  CITY. 

the  life  out  of  him.  A  cold  dreadful  face,  a  cruel 
sickening  look  that  made  Napoleon  Pompey  and  Uncle 
David  shiver  within  their  souls,  and  caused  the  breth- 
ren to  draw  away  affrighted  from  their  once  beloved 
leader.  Perfection  City  was  the  abode  of  wretched- 
ness. The  Academy  never  opened  its  doors  to  the 
assembled  Pioneers,  who  were  afraid  to  come  near 
Madame's  house.  Each  lived  by  himself,  looking 
askance  at  his  neighbour,  for  over  all  had  fallen  a 
spirit  of  suspicion.  Only  Brother  Huntley,  the  deaf 
brother,  and  his  mute  wife  were  happy,  working  on 
contentedly,  shielded  by  their  misfortune  from  the 
full  knowledge  of  the  disasters  that  had  come  upon 
the  Community. 

The  days  dragged  miserably  by,  seemingly  en- 
dowed with  a  miraculous  length  of  hours,  for  the  suf- 
ferings of  a  life-time  were  compressed  into  that  hideous 
fortnight.  The  glaring  sun  blazing  down  upon  the 
blackened  prairie  seemed  to  Ezra  to  have  become  no 
unfitting  symbol  of  hell.  The  light  was  hateful,  dark- 
ness, eternal  darkness  would  have  been  a  relief  to  his 
brain.  Could  it  be  possible  that  he  was  going  to 
live  his  life  out  in  a  realized  purgatory?  He  was 
young,  only  twenty-five,  and  if  his  life  was  to  stretch 
even  to  the  average  span  of  human  existence,  what 
an  eternity  of  suffering  lay  before  him!  A  broken- 
hearted man  amid  the  ruins  of  his  broken  life. 

It  was  on  one  of  these  days  of  utter  black  despair, 
like  the  days  that  had  gone  before  and  the  days  that 


THE  MESSAGE.  285 

were  still  to  come,  that  the  same  ragged  negro  boy  on 
the  straggly  Indian  pony,  who  once  before  had  made 
his  appearance  at  Perfection  City,  was  seen  skulking 
around  the  old  land  near  Weddell's  Gully.  He  seemed 
to  want  to  see  without  being  seen.  By  and  bye  Na- 
poleon Pompey  chanced  that  way  and  of  course 
pounced  upon  him  with  the  universal  query  of  "  wliar 
he  gwine  ?  "  The  boy  after  some  hesitation  made  it 
clear  that  he  had  come  on  a  secret  mission.  He  wanted 
to  find  Uncle  David  without  being  seen  by  anyone  else, 
especially  not  by  the  white-faced  lady,  Madame,  of 
whom  he  stood  in  shivering  dread.  Xapoleon  Pompey, 
sympathising  with  the  dread,  volunteered  to  take  a 
letter  to  Uncle  David  without  fear  of  detection.  There- 
upon the  darkie  delivered  over  to  him  a  scrap  of  news- 
paper upon  which  was  written  a  scrawl  with  the  burnt 
end  of  a  stick,  and  having  done  so  galloped  off  on 
his  straggly  pony  with  a  whoop  of  delight,  as  one 
who  had  escaped  dreadful  peril.  Xapoleon  Pompey, 
finding  it  difficult  to  deliver  his  embassy  to  Uncle 
David  undetected,  gave  the  curious  missive  to  Ezra 
with  intimations  that  it  was  to  be  put  into  Uncle 
David's  hands  right  away. 

Ezra  took  the  scrap  of  paper,  saying  there  must 
be  some  letter  inside,  and  mechanically  unfolded  it, 
when  the  hoarse  scream  that  he  uttered  almost  made 
Xapoleon  Pompey  jump  through  the  window. 

"Where  did  you  get  this?"  he  panted. 

"  Darkie  gin  it  ter  me  jes'  while  back." 


286  PERFECTION  CITY. 

"Who  gave  it?  What  was  his  name?  Where 
did  he  hve?  Who  sent  him  here?"  asked  Ezra  in  a 
breath. 

"  Darkie  he  didn't  go  for  to  say  nnffin,  on'y  jes' 
gin  dat  ar,  an'  tole  me  ter  pike  to  ole  Uncle  David 
wid  it." 

Ezra  darted  out  of  the  house  and  ran  hke  a  mad- 
man to  Madame's  and  burst  into  the  room  where  she 
and  Uncle  David  were  just  sitting  down  to  supper. 
He  held  out  the  scrap  of  paper  to  the  old  man  and 
gasped: 

"  Olive  is  somewhere!  " 

"  I  presume  that  was  already  known,  and  that  it  can 
hardly  be  considered  news/'  said  Madame's  cool  cut- 
ting voice,  which  brought  Ezra  somewhat  to  his  senses. 

"  She  is  somewhere  near.  She  sent  a  negro  boy 
with  this.  Eead  it."  He  shoved  it  under  Uncle 
David's  nose. 

"  I  can't  see  to  read  it,  read  it  aloud,  let  me  hear 
all  she  says  in  her  letter,"  said  the  old  man  with  trem- 
bling eagerness, 

"  It  isn't  a  letter.  It  says,  '  Uncle  come  to  Olive,' 
only  those  four  words,  nothing  else,  and  just  look, 
scratched  with  a  bit  of  burnt  stick  on  a  piece  of  news- 
paper! Oh,  think  of  it!  Where  can  she  be?  Why 
didn't  she  write  before  if  she  was  in  trouble?  What 
has  happened?  " 

"  Perhaps  it  is  a  hoax,"  said  Madame  between  her 
drawn  white  lips. 


THE  MESSAGE.  287 

"  There  hain't  in  this  world  a  bein'  so  lost  to  all 
feelin'  as  would  make  a  joke  o'  our  sorrow/'  said 
Uncle  David.  "  Xo,  Ezra,  that's  writ  by  our  little 
gal.  We  must  go  to  her.  Come  'long,  brother."  He 
put  on  his  hat  and  started  cheerfully  for  the  door. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  asked  Madame,  in  a 
muffled  voice. 

"  I'm  a-goin'  to  little  Ollie." 

"  Where  is  she,  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  Ezry,  don't  you  know  where  we've  got  to  go 
to?" 

"  I  know  nothing,  except  that  this  scrap  of  paper 
has  been  brought  by  a  negro  boy." 

Ezra  kissed  the  paper,  and  Madame's  lips  curled 
in  contempt. 

"  Is  it  not  rather  a  wild-goose  chase  to  start  you 
know  not  whither,  and  at  this  time  of  the  evening 
too?" 

"  We  can't  wait  here  after  little  OlHe's  told  us  to 
come,"  said  Uncle  David  simply. 

"Cannot  you  suggest  some  plan?"  asked  Ezra, 
turning  to  Madame  by  force  of  habit. 

"  Not  I,"  she  replied  contemptuously.  "  Shall  you 
go  east,  west,  north,  or  south?  The  world  lies  all  be- 
fore you." 

"  Ain't  you  glad  little  Ollie's  found?  "  asked  Uncle 
David,  looking  wistfully  at  her. 

Madame  laughed  harshly.  They  went  out  of  the 
room    together    feeling    her   presence    insupportable. 


288  PERFECTION  CITY. 

Just  round  the  corner  they  came  upon  Napoleon  Pom- 
pey  who  was  peeping  around  to  see  if  he  could  pick 
up  any  scraps  of  news.  He  had  divined  there  was 
news  from  OlivC;,  and  with  the  inquisitiveness  of  his 
race  had  followed  Ezra  when  he  had  rushed  so  wildly 
out  of  the  house. 

"  D'yer  know  whar  ter  go  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  No,"  said  Ezra.  "  Can  you  tell  us  anything  of 
that  negro  boy?    Do  you  know  where  he  lives?" 

"  Ask  her/'  said  Napoleon  Pompey,  jerking  his 
thumb  over  his  shoulder  in  the  direction  of  the  door 
from  which  they  had  just  emerged. 

^^Ask  who?" 

"  Madame,"  said  Napoleon  Pompey. 

"  Does  she  know  ?  "  asked  Ezra,  amazed. 

"  I  seed  dat  ar  pony  hyar  afore,"  replied  Napoleon 
Pompey. 

"  Great  Heavens ! "  said  Ezra  as  drops  of  sweat 
burst  out  on  his  forehead.  He  hurried  back  to  the 
house  with  Uncle  David.  Neither  of  them  spoke  a 
word. 

"Madame,"  said  Ezra,  as  they  once  more  stood 
in  the  room,  "  I  have  come  to  ask  you  a  question. 
Do  you  know  where  my  wife  is?  " 

She  looked  him  unflinchingly  in  the  face  and  an- 
swered: 

"  Yes." 

"  May  the  Lord  forgive  you!  "  said  Uncle  David, 
in  a  voice  hardly  above  a  whisper,  and  for  some  sec- 


THE  MESSAGE.  289 

onds  there  was  a  complete  silence  in  the  room,  broken 
only  by  the  sound  of  Ezra's  heavy  breathing. 

"  Where  is  she  ?  "  he  demanded  sternly. 

"  Go  and  find  her/'  was  the  mocking  answer. 

Ezra  sprang  furiously  forward,  and  almost  yelled 
out, 

"  Tell  me  at  once  or " 

"Ay  yes,"  she  said  with  a  steady  look,  "j^ou  will 
drag  the  secret  out,  will  you?" 

She  tore  open  her  dress  and  exposed  her  snow- 
white  throat. 

"  See,  there  it  is  handy.  Take  a  knife  and  cut 
my  throat.  See  if  I  shall  flinch.  The  last  gurgle  of 
my  blood  bubbling  up  through  the  wound,  shall  bear 
a  sound  of  mocking  laughter.     Strike!  " 

Ezra  turned  from  her  in  horror.  "  She  must  be 
mad,"  he  said  to  Uncle  David. 

"  Not  mad  now,  I  have  been  mad  all  these  months, 
all  these  years.  Mad  to  love  you,  mad  in  loving  such 
a  one  as  you.  Xow  I  am  sane.  Ah,  how  I  hate 
you! " 

"  This  is  horrible,"  said  Ezra,  putting  his  hand  be- 
fore his  eyes. 

"  Horrible,  is  it  ?  It  is  the  waking  from  love's 
young  dream.     Ha,  ha!  " 

"  Madame,  dear  child,  think  of  all  you  have  been 
to  us,"  said  Uncle  David,  reaching  his  hands  out  to 
her  imploringly.  "  You  have  led  us,  think  of  all 
that." 


290  PERFECTION  CITY. 

'  "  I  do  think  of  all  that.  I  think  of  how  I  found 
this  boy,"  she  said,  pointing  in  scorn  to  Ezra,  "ig- 
norant, unformed,  with  wild  crude  longings.  I  think 
of  how  I  infused  light  and  life  into  the  darkness  of 
his  mind.  How  I  rose,  aye,  above  myself,  in  order  to 
lead  him  up  and  on.  I  think  of  all  his  half-formed 
longings  put  into  working  form  and  endowed  with 
vital  power  that  he  might  see  his  thoughts  taking 
shape.  I  made  him.  He  was  mine.  Then  he  left  me 
for  a  few  brief  weeks.  He  saw  a  pretty  dolFs  face 
with  an  empty  head,  and  straightway  he  loves  with 
never  a  thought  of  me.  You  ask  me  to  think.  I  do 
think  of  how  even  this  I  bore,  and  so  great  was  my 
love  that  for  his  sake  I  welcomed  the  doll  that  had 
stolen  my  place,  and  smiled  on  her.  Even  this  I  did 
and  remained  his  friend.  She,  the  doll,  attracted  by 
a  handsome  face,  her  love  aroused  by  the  stolen  kisses 
of  a  yellow  moustache,  left  him.  Then  I  was  free  to 
love  him  once  more.  I  laid  my  heart  at  his  feet.  He 
spurned  me.  All  my  love  was  as  nothing  against  the 
memory  of  the  doll  who  had  deserted  him.  She  may 
die  and  rot  before  word  of  mine  shall  restore  her  to 
him." 

Neither  Ezra  nor  Uncle  David  had  attempted  to 
speak  while  Madame  was  pouring  forth  the  torrent 
of  her  bitter  words.  Ezra  felt  too  overwhelmed  to 
say  anything,  for  a  moment,  in  the  downfall  of  so 
many  illusions  and  high  hopes,  he  forgot  even  Olive. 
Uncle  David  was  the  first  to  recover  himself. 


THE  MESSAGE.  291 

"  Dear  child/'  he  said,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life 
addressing  her  as  one  beneath  him.  "  These  are  wild 
words  you've  been  sa3an'.  I  can't  find  it  in  my  heart 
to  believe  they're  true.  You  are  disai^pointed, 
an'  you  think  wrong  can  be  made  right  by  turnin' 
things  upside  down.  Tain't  so.  You'll  have  to 
learn  that  right  an'  wrong  can't  change  places,  no- 
how you  fix  it.  You  have  still  your  duty  here  in 
the  City  you've  founded  an'  the  principles  you've  set 
up." 

Madame  looked  at  him  with  glittering  eyes. 

"  Will  you  hear  the  truth  about  Perfection  City 
too?  Then  listen.  It  is  not  an  experiment  in  new 
principles,  it  is  an  example  of  the  oldest  the  world 
has  seen — of  the  folly  of  a  fond  woman.  I  founded 
Perfection  City  so  that  he  might  love  the  founder. 
I  staked  my  all  on  a  throw  of  love's  dice,  and  lost. 
AYomen  have  done  it  before  and  will  do  it  again. 
Some  fools  degrade  their  body  to  win  a  man,  I 
degraded  my  mind.  The  foundation-stone  of  Per- 
fection City  was  my  heart,  see  what  will  happen 
when  it  is  crushed!  Ah,  why  can  we  not  profit  by 
the  experience  of  our  elders!  My  mother  warned 
me,  having  tried  it,  never  to  stake  my  happiness  on 
the  love  of  man.  I  followed  her  advice  for  five-and- 
thirty  happy  years.  Tlien  I  saw  liim,  and  the  curse 
fell." 

She  threw  up  her  arms  over  her  head  and  backed 
towards  the  door  of  her  own  apartment. 


29^  PERFECTION  CITY. 

"The  curse,  the  curse!"  she  exclaimed,  as  she 
passed  through  out  of  their  sight. 

Ezra  had  a  confused  feehng  that  he  had  just  seen 
someone  drowning  who  had  reached  appeahng  hands 
towards  heaven  as  she  went  under. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 
olive's  second  home-coming. 

And  where  was  Olive  all  this  time?  She  and  Cot- 
terell  rode  out  of  Union  Mills  together,  as  we  have 
seen,  and  as  was  seen  by  nearl}^  all  the  men  who  had  as- 
sembled there  that  morning  in  the  expectation  of  see- 
ing him  hanged.  They  rode  silently  among  "  the 
boys  "  getting  their  horses  read}',  they  silently  passed 
among  the  trees  to  the  south  and  crossed  the  ford  of 
the  Creek.  Then  Cotterell  spoke,  pouring  forth  his 
words  of  thanks  and  gratitude  to  her.  He  was  not 
ashamed  to  show  that  he  was  deeply  moved,  now  that 
none  but  Olive  could  see  his  emotion.  She,  on  the 
other  hand,  seemed  almost  in  an  unconscious  state  so 
little  heed  did  she  give  to  his  eager  words. 

"  Speak  to  me,  tell  me  what  you  wish,"  he  pleaded 
very  gently,  noticing  her  abstraction. 

"  I  want  you  to  go  away,"  she  said  slowly.  "  You 
are  safe  from  their  anger  for  this  time,  but  do  not 
stay  here  and  court  danger.  This  is  no  place  for  a 
man  like  you  to  live.  Go  while  there  is  yet  time. 
There  is  now  a  blood-feud  between  you  and  the  Mills. 

293 


294:  PERFECTION  CITY. 

They  will  mark  3^011  for  yengeance,  and  tliey  are  wild 
bad  men." 

"And  you?"  said  Cotterell,  looking  anxiously  at 
her.  "  I  want  to  see  you  safely  at  home.  You  are 
ill,  I  fear." 

"  I  am  all  right,"  answered  Olive  wearily.  "  You 
must  go  to  the  South  Fork  at  once.  Take  the  Kansas 
City  stage  this  very  night  and  go.  There  is  no  time 
to  be  lost." 

"  I  cannot,  and  will  not,"  answered  Cotterell.  "  I 
must  take  you  home  first.  You  look  frightfully  tired 
and  ill." 

"  1^0,  it  would  be  the  crudest  thing  you  could 
do  to  bring  me  home.  I  want  to  go  back  to  Ezra, 
I  am  so  tired,"  said  Olive  plaintively. 

"  Must  I  let  you  go  all  by  yourself  over  this  lonely 
prairie?    I  cannot  bear  the  thought  of  it." 

"  I  have  been  two  days  and  one  night  all  by  my- 
self out  on  this  lonely  prairie  in  order  to  save  you. 
Please  do  what  I  ask.  Tie  Queen  Katharine's  rein  to 
Eebel's  bit,  they  will  then  go  quietly  together." 

"  Tell  me,"  said  Cotterell  breathlessly,  "  why  havo 
you  been  out  all  this  time  on  the  prairie  alone  ?  " 

"  I  was  following  the  men  who  had  captured  you 
in  order  to  save  you  if  I  could." 

"  Great  Heavens!  "  he  burst  out,  with  his  blue 
eyes  aflame.  "  And  you  did  this  heroic  act  because 
you " 

"I  did  it  because  you  are  an  innocent  man,  and 


OLIVES  SECOND  HOME-COMINa.  295 

I  wanted  you  to  go  back  to  your  country  to  live  a 
better  life  and  be  a  better  man  than  you  ever  had 
been  before.'^ 

Tlie  light  died  out  of  his  eyes.  He  looked  down, 
his  hands  trembled  as  they  had  never  trembled  when 
on  his  trial. 

"  Your  sacrifice  shall  not  have  been  in  vain/'  he 
said  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Then  good-bye,  and  all  good  blessings  attend 
you." 

She  shook  hands  with  him  and  left  him  standing 
at  the  parting  of  the  ways.  When  she  was  quite  out 
of  sight  over  the  ridge  on  her  way  towards  Cotton 
Wood  Creek,  he,  with  blinding  tears  streaming  down 
his  sun-burnt  face,  turned  and  walked  to  the  South 
Fork,  caught  the  Kansas  City  stage-coach  and  de- 
parted out  of  Olive's  life. 

She  hardly  knew  what  she  was  doing  she  felt  so 
ill.  It  seemed  a  relief  not  to  have  to  talk  any  more, 
for  she  found  it  difficult  to  keep  hold  of  her  thoughts, 
they  seemed  constantly  to  be  slipping  away  from  her. 
The  sun  was  burning  hot,  and  she  had  a  long  way  to 
go,  for  she  had  come  out  of  Union  Mills  by  the  south 
side  instead  of  the  north.  Therefore  she  must  make 
a  great  sweep  round  to  the  right  in  order  to  reach  her 
home,  and  she  must  remember  that  the  Creek  was  only 
to  be  safely  forded  at  certain  places.  She  rode  on 
and  on,  feeling  the  sun  hotter  and  hotter  and  her  head 
heavier  and  heavier.     At  last  she  was  so  dizzy  she 


296  PERFECTION  CITY. 

coitM  no  longer  see  where  she  was  going.  Whatever 
hapi3ened  she  must  lie  down  for  a  few  minutes.  Some- 
how she  got  off  her  horse  and  lay  down  at  the  side  of 
the  track  she  had  been  following,  but  whether  in 
sleep  or  in  unconsciousness  she  never  knew. 

By  and  by  she  came  to  herself  again.  The  horses 
were  both  gone!  She  had  forgotten  to  picket  them. 
She  did  not  remember  where  she  was,  but  mechanically 
stumbled  along  the  road  and  at  length  was  overtaken 
by  a  negro  woman  driving  an  ox-waggon.  She  begged 
of  the  woman  to  let  her  get  into  the  waggon  and  take 
her  home  for  she  felt  ill,  and  the  negress,  struck  with 
pity,  declared  she  would,  "  f  o'  de  po'  chile  was  mos' 
sick  to  deaf  anyhow."  Olive  got  into  the  waggon 
and  knew  no  more  for  hours — or  was  it  days,  or  was  it 
weeks?  Two  nights  out  in  the  poisonous  prairie  dew 
had  done  their  work:  she  was  down  with  chills  and 
fever,  a  raving  panting  lunatic,  or  else  a  stupid  heavy 
sleeping  log,  taking  no  heed  of  day  or  night  or  the 
hours  as  they  flew,  only  craving  water  to  drink,  ever 
more  water  to  drink.  By  and  by  she  began  to  have 
intervals  when  she  knew  that  she  was  in  a  strange 
place  with  strange  black  faces  around  her.  Then  at 
last  her  senses  returned,  and  she  sent  an  imploring 
message  to  Ezra  to  come  to  her.  In  reply  had  come 
Madame,  stern,  fierce-eyed,  to  see  her  and  crush  her 
with  the  awful  news  that  'Ezza  was  dead.  Olive  fell 
back  into  unconsciousness  under  the  blow,  she  did  not 
know  for  how  long.     But  after  ^yeary  suffering  she 


OLIVE'S  SECOND  HOME-COMING.  297 

awoke  again,  still  in  that  same  strange  place,  still  with 
those  black  faces  around  her,  kind  and  pitying,  but 
faces  she  did  not  know. 

Trying  feebly  to  gather  up  again  the  threads  of 
her  life,  she  wished  to  send  word  to  the  friends  at 
Perfection  City  that  she  was  still  alive.  The  negroes, 
who  were  the  only  inhabitants  of  the  wTetched  house 
where  she  was,  seemed  not  to  heed  her  wishes.  They 
refused  to  take  any  messages,  but  would  not  say  why. 
Olive  grew  stronger,  for  her  young  vitality  exerted 
itself.  She  demanded  to  know  why  they  would  not 
do  as  she  wished,  but  they  fled  from  her  questions 
and  left  her  to  her  suspicions.  She  tormented  them 
with  questions,  and  at  last  they  said  the  white-faced 
lady  had  forbidden  them  ever  to  come  near  her  house 
again,  and  they  were  afraid:,  she  was  a  very  terrible 
looking  lady  when  she  was  angry.  Then  Olive  used 
her  powers  of  persuasion  upon  the  negro  lad  and 
eventually  got  him  to  take  her  message  in  spite  of 
what  his  mother  said.  That  was  the  scrap  of  paper 
that  had  come  into  Ezra's  hands. 

The  Pioneers  scattered  in  systematic  search  for 
Olive,  spreading  out  in  all  directions  in  a  way  that 
could  not  fail  to  be  speedily  successful.  Brother 
Green  found  her  on  the  second  day,  while  Ezra  found 
the  two  horses  which  a  thrifty  settler  had  impounded 
in  his  own  fields  and  was  unobtrusively  working  until 
they  should  be  called  for  by  their  owner. 

Brother   Green    was    overjoyed   at    finding    Olive 


298  PERFECTION  CITY. 

and  was  not  so  overwhelmed  at  hearing  of  her  long 
illness  as,  under  different  circumstances,  he  might  have 
been.  In  fact  he  was  almost  pleased,  for  that  fact, 
taken  together  with  the  negro  woman^s  graphic  ac- 
count of  finding  her  alone  and  ill  on  the  prairie  on 
the  day  "  o'  de  hoss-thief  tryin',"  made  it  clear  to  him 
that  she  had  never  been  with  Cotterell  since  she  was 
at  the  abortive  trial.  She  was  very  weak  and  languid 
and  took  little  heed  of  him  or  his  remarks. 

"  Ezra  will  be  out  of  his  mind  with  joy,"  he  said, 
by  way  of  rousing  her  to  some  interest,  as  he  was 
settling  her  as  comfortably  as  he  could  in  the  ox- 
waggon,  preparatory  to  setting  out  on  their  return. 

"  Ezra  is  dead,"  said  Olive  wearily. 

Brother  Green  stared  hard  at  her.  "  What  crazy 
fancy  is  this?  Ezra  is  alive  and  riding  over  towards 
Jacksonville  at  this  moment  hunting  for  you." 

"  She  told  me  he  was  dead,"  said  Olive,  beginning 
to  cry  from  the  revulsion  of  feeling  combined  with 
physical  suffering. 

^^  How  dared  the  woman  tell  such  a  lie!"  ex- 
claimed Brother  Green  angrily,  and  then  after  a  mo- 
ment he  added  more  mildly,  "  Perhaps  it  was  a  mere 
mistake,  she  seems  to  have  been  kind  to  you,  but 
negroes  are  not  a  truth-telling  race." 

"  It  was  not  the  negro  woman,  it  was  Madame," 
said  Olive  in  a  hushed  and  awe-struck  voice. 

"IsTonsense,  you  are  raving,  Sister  Olive,"  said 
he  sharply. 


OLIVE'S  SECOND  HOME-COMINa.  299 

"  She  came  to  me  and  told  me  during  my  illness/^ 

"When?" 

"  I  can't  tell.  I  don't  remember  when  things  hap- 
pened.   I  was  so  ill." 

"  Then  depend  upon  it,  you  have  fancied  this. 
Fever  fancies  seem  very  real  at  times." 

He  experienced  a  certain  relief  in  speaking  thus 
confidently  on  the  subject  to  her. 

"  The  negro  woman  knows.  Ask  her  wjio  came 
here  and  forbade  them  to  bring  any  more  messages 
from  me  to  Perfection  City." 

It  was  singular,  considering  the  way  he  had  spoken, 
that  Brother  Green  did  not  take  this  simple  means  of 
assuring  himself  that  Olive's  idea  was  the  effect  of 
the  disordered  workings  of  a  fevered  brain.  But  he 
said  never  a  word  to  the  negro  woman  on  the  subject, 
but  drove  slowly  and  thoughtfully  back  to  Perfection 
City,  with  Olive  in  the  ox- waggon,  lying  on  a  heap  of 
corn-shucks  covered  with  the  ragged  patch-quilt  the 
woman  had  lent  her.  It  was  a  long  and  a  weary  jour- 
ney thus  creeping  back  home  over  the  blackened  prai- 
rie. Olive  sometimes  wondered  if  she  would  get  there 
alive,  and  she  moaned  in  her  misery.  For  the  rest, 
Brother  Green  spoke  but  little.  Since  assuring  Olive 
of  the  falseness  of  her  idea  that  Madame  had  been  to 
see  her,  he  appeared  to  have  lost  the  cheerfulness  he 
had  shown  upon  finding  her.  Brother  Green  was 
thinldng  of  the  future  of  Perfection  Cit}',  and  it  looked 

black  enough  to  him.    It  was  no  secret  that  Madame 
20 


300  PERFECTION  CITY. 

had  refused  to  reveal  Olive's  wliereabonts  to  her  hus- 
band, and  in  the  light  of  that  circumstance  he  could 
foresee  nothing  but  strife,  ill-will  and  enmity  in  Per- 
fection City.  How  were  Olive  and  Madame  to  meet, 
and  above  all  how  were  they  to  live  in  harmony  for 
the  future?  These  were  the  thoughts  that  occupied 
his  mind  and  kept  him  silent  during  that  long  slow 
drive. 

Olive,  too,  was  trying  to  look  into  the  future,  and 
she  shivered  with  dread  as  she  did  so.  Madame's  piti- 
less eyes  were  before  her  still,  but  Ezra  would  be 
there,  he  would  shield  her  and  comfort  her,  and  she 
could  rest  her  head  peacefully  on  his  honest  breast. 
Dear  Ezra!  Why  had  he  not  come  to  her  when  she 
had  sent  for  him?  She  hoped  he  would  be  there  to 
greet  her  and  to  save  her  from  that  terrible  woman, 
whose  colourless  face  in  its  icy  cruelty  still  haunted 
her,  filling  her  with  a  great  dread.  She  need  not 
have  been  so  afraid,  for  when  she  reached  Perfection 
City  Madame  was  gone. 

The  Pioneers  had  indeed  a  life  of  much  inward 
excitement  during  these  days.  The  return  of  Olive 
and  the  departure  of  Madame  were  events  almost 
equally  calculated  to  disturb  their  equanimity  as  a 
Community. 

Ezra  being  still  away  looking  for  his  wife  in  the 
wrong  direction,  there  was  no  one  to  receive  her  when 
she  got  home.  Therefore  Brother  Green  took  her  to 
Sister  Mary  ^Yinkle's  at  once  on  their  arrival.    Olive 


OLIVE'S  SECOND  HOME-COMING.  301 

was  weak,  ill,  and  peevish,  she  cried  with  disappoint- 
ment at  not  seeing  Ezra.  Sister  Mary  Winkle  admin- 
istered a  stimulant  in  the  way  of  advice. 

"  I  wouldn't  take  on  so  like  a  bab}^,  Olive  ^Yeston, 
if  I  were  you.  Ezra'U  come  home  probably  to-day 
or  to-morrow,  and  one  day  more  or  less  ain't  much 
in  a  life-time." 

Olive  dried  her  eyes  with  energy. 

^'  Everybody  said  you  had  gone  off  with  that  man 
Cotterell,  and  so  we  all  thought  too,"  observed  Sister 
Winkle  conversationally. 

"How  dare  you  suggest  such  a  thing  to  me?" 
exclaimed  Olive,  with  an  amount  of  angry  energy  sur- 
prising in  one  so  weak. 

"  Well,  we  had  it  from  the  people  who  saw  you 
go  away  with  him,  and  who  heard  you  say  you  were 
going.  I  don't  see  how  we  could  possibly  have  thought 
other  than  we  did." 

"  You  must  be  a  wicked  woman  to  tliink  such 
a  thing,"  said  Olive.  Her  chin  began  to  quiver  pite- 
ously. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  condemn  you,"  replied  Sister 
Winkle,  in  a  philosophic  vein.  "  If  you  found  you 
preferred  him  to  Ezra  I  don't  think  you  would  have 
been  wrong  in  showing  your  preference  in  an  un- 
mistakable manner.  Marriage  is  a  partnership  which 
either  side  should  be  free  to  dissolve.  Mistakes  are 
sometimes  made  in  it  as  in  other  affairs.  Our  mar- 
riage is  not  a  mistake,  because  Wright  and  I  don't 


302  PERFECTION  CITY. 

make  mistakes^,  but  other  people  are  different,  and  I 
don't  see  why  they  should  be  punished  for  an  honest 
mistake.  Marriage  should  be  free.  Perfection  City 
was  founded  on  freedom.  We  thought  that  you  had 
used  your  right  of  choice,  and  since  you  liked  Cot- 
terell  best  had  gone  with  him.  We  thought  that  Ma- 
dame would  soon  marry  Ezra,  since  he  was  now  free, 
and  she  had  always  wanted  to." 

Olive  sprang  from  her  chair  and  steadied  herself 
with  her  trembling  hands  by  clutching  the  back  of  it. 

^^  Mary  Winkle,  I  hate  you,"  she  said,  in  a  voice 
choking  with  emotion.  "  Perfection  City  is  a  sinful, 
wicked  place.  I  wish  I  had  never  seen  it.  If  I  live, 
and  Ezra  loves  me,  I  hope  he  will  take  me  away  so  I- 
may  never  hear  its  name  again." 

She  stamped  bravely  out  of  the  house  under  the 
influence  of  her  anger,  but  her  strength  did  not  carry 
her  far,  and  she  sank  down  upon  the  wood-pile  weep- 
ing bitterly,  unable  to  walk  another  step.  Sister  Mary, 
somewhat  disgusted  at  the  way  in  which  her  philoso- 
phy had  been  received,  resolved  to  lot  her  cool  off  a 
little  before  going  out  to  offer  Olive  an  arm  to  con- 
duct her  back  into  the  house.  Thus  it  came  about 
that  Olive  was  still  sitting  weeping  on  the  wood-pile 
when  Uncle  David  came  hurrying  up,  having  just 
heard  of  her  arrival,  and  close  behind  him  came  Ezra 
running  like  a  mad-man.  When  Olive  saw  him  she 
started  towards  her  husband  with  outstretched  arms, 
but  her  weakness  overcame  her,  and  she  would  have 


OLIVE'S  SECOND  HOME-COMING.  303 

fallen  to  the  ground  only  that  he  was  just  in  time  to 
catch  her  in  his  arms,  where  she  fell  laughing  and  cry- 
ing in  the  most  incoherent  manner  imaginable. 

''  Oh,  Ezra,  you  didn't  believe  that  wicked  story? 
And  you  do  love  me,  don't  you?  And  you  won't 
marry  her,  and  you  aren't  dead,  are  you?  Tell  Mary 
Winkle  you  hate  her  too.  And  why  didn't  you  come 
to  me  when  I  sent  for  you?" 

Ezra  could  only  kiss  her,  and  pet  her,  and  soothe 
her  in  every  way  while  Olive  kept  saying  hysterically, 
"  You  won't,  will  you?  "  and  "  You  will,  won't  you?  " 
All  of  which  Ezra  promised  faithfully  to  perform. 
She  absolutely  refused  to  re-enter  Sister  Mary  Win- 
kle's house,  whereupon  the  latter,  somewhat  con- 
science-stricken, offered  to  send  in  food  for  their  sup- 
per at  their  own  house,  provided  Olive  was  not  told 
who  had  sent  it.  The  secret  was  kept,  and  Olive  par- 
took heartily  of  what  otherwise  would  undoubtedly 
have  choked  her. 

Uncle  David  hovered  over  her  with  anxious  love 
and  remorse.  "  Bless  her  heart,  o'  course  he  didn't 
b'lieve  nothin'  'bout  her  goin'  off.  Yer  bet  he  didn't, 
he  knowed  it  was  all  right,  on'y  she  was  so  long  a-com- 
in'  home  he  sorter  kinder  got  oneasy,  an'  that's  why 
they  went  out  to  fin'  her,  an'  dear,  dear,  had  she  been 
an'  gone  an'  got  that  plaguey  ague,  an'  he  not  there 
to  see  a'ter  her,  an'  there  wasn't  nothin'  like  Ayre's 
iVgue  Cure  for  that,  an'  he  would  go  right  'long  home 
this  minute  an'  get  her  some  right  away." 


304  PERFECTION  CITY. 

Ezra  wanted  to  hear  her  story,  and  she  told  him 
everj^thing  from  the  beginning  to  the  end.  When 
she  came  to  the  end  and  told  him  of  Madame's  visit, 
he  shivered  and  said  it  must  have  been  delirium,  he 
bade  her  think  no  more  of  it  and  never  speak  of  it 
again.  His  mind  started  back  from  the  thoughts  such 
a  story  raised  up  before  him.  He  was  afraid,  and 
looked  away  from  the  abyss,  terrified  at  what  lay  but 
half  hidden  there. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

CONCLUSION. 

Madame  left  Perfection  City  alone  and  unat- 
tended. Xo  one  knew  that  she  was  going,  and  no  one 
knew  whither  she  went.  Her  spirit,  however,  still  hov- 
ered over  the  city  of  her  founding  and  made  itself 
most  potently  felt.  She  sold  all  her  rights  in  the 
place,  and  since  these  included  the  land,  horses,  and 
implements,  as  well  as  most  of  the  houses,  the  Pion- 
eers awoke  in  early  winter  to  find  themselves  homeless 
and  houseless,  cast  upon  the  bleak  world  again.  In  a 
tempest  of  indignation,  Sister  Mary  Winkle  and  her 
husband  departed  out  of  the  place,  and  after  them 
the  Carpenters.  The  going  of  the  AVrights  was  highly 
characteristic.  They  had  managed  to  save  a  waggon 
and  a  pair  of  horses  out  of  the  general  wreck,  along 
with  a  few  of  the  most  primitive  household  necessaries. 
These,  with  his  wife  and  daughter.  Brother  Wright 
packed  into  his  waggon  and  started  for  Union  Mills. 
At  the  store  there  he  bought  a  rifle,  a  bowie-knife,  and 
a  plentiful  supply  of  ammunition.  He  came  out  of 
the  store  looking  like  a  buccaneer  ready  equipped  for 

305 


306  PERFECTION  CITY. 

Central  America.     Mary  "Winkle  raised  her  hands  in 
speechless  horror. 

"  I  sa}^,  pa,  he  yer  goin'  to  he  a  jay-hawker? " 
asked  Willette,  grinning  with  delight. 

Wright  got  into  the  waggon  in  grim  silence. 

"  What  are  yon  going  to  be  ?  "  asked  Sister  Mary 
recovering  her  speech  at  last. 

"  I'm  going  to  he  a  man,  Mrs.  Wright,  and  not  a 
blamed  fool  any  longer.  Guess  I'll  pre-empt  some 
land  near  the  Cherokee  Eeservation,  and  stick  to  it 
and  get  the  fruits  of  my  toil,  anyhow." 

"  Your  principles "  stammered  his  wife. 

''  Damn  principles,  Mrs.  Wright.  I've  had  about 
enough  of  them.  Common  sense  is  w^hat  I  want,  and 
so  do  you.  I  guess  a  spell  of  that  will  come  handy 
now." 

Thus  they  journeyed  out  of  sight,  but  a  legend 
canfe  floating  back  from  near  the  Cherokee  lands  that 
at  a  difficult  ford  Wright  was  attacked  by  a  couple  of 
robbers,  whereupon  he  took  up  that  new  rifle  of  his 
and  fired  so  uncommonly  straight  that  one  man  fell 
into  the  river,  and  the  other  ran  away. 

Brother  Green  remained  at  his  forge,  for  black- 
smiths were  much  in  request  on  the  prairie,  and  such 
a  one  as  he  was  hard' to  find.  The  new  owner  of  Per- 
fection City  offered  him  good  inducements  to  stay, 
so  he  stayed.  He  is  still  there  shoeing  horses  and 
mending  ploughs.  The  name  has  been  changed  to 
Mountainburg,  in  order  to  emphasise  the  existence  of 


CONCLUSION.  307 

the  rising  ground  over  Weddell's  Gully.  Brother 
Green  is  almost  the  oldest  inhabitant  now,  and  some- 
times he  thinks  of  that  far-off  English  village  where 
he  was  born,  and  it  looks  brighter  and  more  beautiful 
to  him  as  the  years  roll  him  away  from  it.  He  thinks 
too  of  the  grass-grown  grave  in  the  church-yard 
where  the  jackdaws  caw  overhead,  and  it  seems  to 
him  that  when  his  last  day's  work  shall  be  done  he 
would  rest  more  peacefully  beside  that  mound  than 
in  any  other  spot  beneath  the  broad  canopy  of 
heaven. 

Brother  Dummy  decided  not  to  leave  when  the 
rest  of  the  Pioneers  scattered.  He  preferred  to  stay 
where  he  was  and  rent  a  bit  of  land  from  the  new 
owner.  By  and  by  he  was  enabled  to  buy  his  bit  out- 
right. For  there  came  a  letter  addressed  to  "  The 
Pioneers  of  Perfection  City"  and  containing  a  draft 
for  five  hundred  dollars  "  for  the  hire  of  one  horse  " 
from  an  ever  grateful  friend.  And  Brother  Dummy 
was  given  this  money  by  the  united  wish  of  Olive, 
Ezra,  Brother  Green,  and  Tncle  David,  the  last 
of  the  Pioneers,  because,  as  they  said,  he  was  the 
only  one  who  didn't  know  why  it  had  been  sent, 
and  he  was  the  only  one  who  had  not  suffered 
through  that  episode  that  had  so  nearly  wrecked  their 
lives. 

On  a   cold  winter's  da}',  when  the  snow  lay  in 

patches  on  the  black  prairie,  Olive  and  her  husband 

"  and  Uncle  David  set  out  from  Perfection  City.     She 


308  PERFECTION  CITY. 

was  i^ale  and  tliin,  and  looked  very  ill  as  she  stood 
leaning  against  the  door-wa}^  of  her  dismantled  home. 

"  I  wish  I  could  feel  sorry  at  leaving  the  prairie, 
but  I  can't.  I  never  want  to  see  Perfection  City  again, 
but  I'm  sorry  for  my  little  home,  and  I  w^ould  hke  to 
see  my  garden  blossom  again."  So  spoke  Olive  to 
Uncle  David,  standing  beside  her  with  shawls  on  his 
arm. 

"  Wal,  now,"  replied  he  sadly,  "  we  came  here  full 
o'  the  notion  o'  teachin'  folks  things,  but  it  'pears 
like  as  if  it  wasn't  so  much  other  folks  out  here  as 
needed  teachin'  as  jes'  our  own  selves.  We  hev  hed 
a  hard  lesson  to  learn,  Ollie,  my  little  gal,  but  I  reckon 
we've  pretty  well  learned  it  by  now^  It  mos'  likely 
comes  to  the  same  thing,  on'y  it's  a  sight  more  com- 
fortin'  to  human  pride  to  set  up  as  a  teacher  than  to 
sit  down  as  a  learner.  We  w^as  as  certain  as  anything 
we  had  a  bran'  new  truth  to  teach  to  the  w^orld,  an' 
we  was  goin'  to  show  'em  how  they'd  been  doin'  wrong 
in  everything  'fore  we  come  to  set  'em  right.  We  was 
jes'  bustin'  wdth  pride  and  vanity,  that's  w^hat  we  w^as. 
We  had  foun'  a  new  road  to  Kingdom  Come,  we  had. 
'Twasn't  no  road  at  all,  on'y  a  coon  track  leadin'  into 
a  sw^amp.  Guess  we'll  f oiler  the  road  other  folks  has 
trod  before,  an'  if  we  can  fill  up  a  slough  or  help  any- 
one over  the  rough  bits  as  is  scattered  plentiful  all 
the  way,  that'll  do  for  us.  Ain't  that  your  'pinion, 
Ezry?" 

"  Yes,  Uncle,  we  made  a  mistake.     We  thought 


CONCLUSION.  309 

the  great  thing  to  do  was  to  reform  the  ways  of  the 
world.  We  forgot  that  the  human  heart  needed  re- 
forming first  of  all,"  said  Ezra,  looking  sadly  at  his 
poor  wan-cheeked  little  wife. 

"  And  if  the  heart  is  right  it  doesn't '  matter  about 
the  rest,  does  it,  dear?  "  said  Olive,  looking  timidly 

at  him. 

He  was  sad  and  down-hearted  and  the  eager  en- 
thusiasm was  gone  out  of  his  manner.  Ezra  was  much 
older-looking  than  he  should  have  been,  if  hfe  be 
reckoned  by  solar  time  alone.  He  had  been  aged 
by  a  lapse  of  mental  time  and  suffering  of  which 
the  almanac  can  take  no  heed.  His  wife  saw  and 
understood  how  he  was,  at  this  moment,  realizing 
the  downfall  of  his  young  hopes  and  beliefs,  that 
was    why    he    gazed    so    sadly    across    the    desolate 

fields. 

"We  take  nothing  away  with  us  except  sad  ex- 
perience," he  said  as  he  lifted  her  into  the  waggon 
and  drove  off. 

"  And  our  love,  dear,  which  nothing  can  ever  de- 
stroy," she  whispered,  pressing  his  hand. 

He  stooped  and  kissed  her.  There  were  tears  in 
his  eyes.  But  they  made  a  mistake.  They  took  some- 
thing else  with  them.  Something  that  came  tearing 
over  the  prairie  with  tongue  out  and  tail  stiff-stretched 
and  nose  to  the  ground— Diana,  who  had  been  turned 
over  to  Xapoleon  Pompey  to  have  and  to  hold,  but  he 
could  not  hold  her  when  she  saw  the  waggon  going 


310  PERFECTION  CITY. 

off,  therefore  lie  could  not  have  her.  She  caudit 
them  up  when  they  were  t\vo  miles  oif,  and  Olive  let 
the  dog  clamber  all  over  her,  regardless  of  wet  paws, 
and  lick  her  face,  so  delighted  were  they  to  meet 
again. 


THE  EI^D. 


APPLETONS'   TOWN   AND  COUNTRY  LIBRARY. 

PUBLISHED    SEMIMONTHLY. 


1.  T?ie  Steel  Hamnier.    By  Louis  Ulbach. 

2.  Eve.    A  Novel.    By  S.  Baking-Gould. 

3.  For  Fifteer^  Years.    A  Sequel  to  The  Steel  Hammer.    By  Louis  Ulbach. 
^.  A  Counsel  of  Perfection.    A  Novel.    By  Lucas  Malet. 

5.  The  Deemster.    A  Romance.    By  Hall  Caine. 

5J.   The  Bondman.    (New  edition.)    By  Hall  Caine. 

6.  A  Virginia  Inheritance.    By  Edmund  Pendleton. 

7.  Ninette :  An  Idyll  of  Provence.    By  the  author  of  Vera. 

8.  "  The  Right  Honourable.''  By  Justin  McCarthy  and  Mrs.  Campbell-Praed. 
d.  The  Silence  of  Dean  Maitland.    By  Maxwell  Gray. 

10.  Mrs.  Loiinier:  A  Study  in  Black  and  White.    By  Lucas  Malet. 
IL  The  Elect  Lady.    By  (Jeorge  MacDonald. 

12.  The  MijMery  of  the  "  Ocean  Star.''    By  W.  Clark  Russell. 

13.  Aristocracy.    A  Novel. 

14.  A  Recoiling  Vengeance.    By  Frank  Barrett.    With  IlluetratiouB. 

15.  The    Secret  of  Fonfaine-la- Croix.    By  Margaret  Field. 

16.  The  Master  of  RdthkiVy.    By  Hawley  Smart. 

17.  Donovan:  A  Modern  Englishman.    By  Edna  Ly'all. 

18.  This  Mortal  Coil.    By  Grant  Allen. 

19.  A  Fair  Emigrant.    By  Rosa  Mulholland. 

20.  The  Apostate-    By  Ernest  Daudet. 

21.  Raleigh  Wtsfgate  ;  or,  Epimenidcs  in  Maine.     By  Helen  Kendrick  Jounson. 

22.  Arius  the  Libyan.    A  Romance  of  the  Primitive  Church. 

23.  Constance,  and  Calbot's  Rival.    By  Julian  Hawthorne. 

24.  We  Two.    By  Edna  Lyall. 

25.  A  Dreamer  of  Dreams.    By  the  author  of  Thoth. 

26.  The  Ladies'  Gallery.    Bv  Justin  McCarthy  and  Mrs.  Campbell-Praed, 

27.  I'he  Reproach  of  Annesl'ey.    By  Maxwell  Gray. 

28.  Xear  to  Happiness. 

29.  Di  the  Wire  Grass.    By  Louis  Pendleton. 

30.  Lace.    A  Berlin  Romalice.    Bv  Paul  Lindau. 
30i.  The  Black  Poodle.    By  F.  Anstey. 

31.  Aftierican  Coin.    A  Novel.    By  the  author  of  Aristocracy. 

32.  Won  by  Waiting.    By  Edna  Lyall. 

33.  The  Story  of  Helen  Davenant.    By  Violet  Fane. 

34.  The  Light  of  Her  Countemmce.    By  H.  II.  Boyesen. 

35.  Mistress  Beatrice  Cope.    My  M.  E.  Le  Clerc. 

36.  The  Knight-Errant.    By  Edna  Lyall. 

37.  In  the  Golden  Days.    By  Edna  Lyall. 

38.  Giraldi ;  or,  The  Curse  of  Love.    By  Ross  George  Bering. 

39.  A  Hardy  Norseman.    By  Edna  Lyall.  * 

40.  The  Romance  of  Jenjiy  Harloive,  and    Sketches  of  Maritime  Life.    By  W. 

Clark  Russell. 

41.  Passion's  Slave.    By  Richakd  Ashe-King. 

42.  The  Awakening  of  Mary  Fenwick.    By  Beatrice  Whitby. 

43.  Countess  Loreley.    Translated  from  the  German  of  Rudolf  Menger. 

44.  Blind  Love.    By  Wilkie  Collins. 

45.  The  Dean's  Daughter.    By  Sophie  F.  F.  Veitch. 

46.  Countess  Irene.    A  Romance  of  Austrian  Life.     By  J.  Fogerty. 

47.  Robert  Brouuntio's  F?'inripal  Shorter  Poems. 

48.  Frozen  Hearts.    By  G.  Webb  Appleton. 

49.  Djambek  the  Georgian.    By  A.  G.  von  Suttner. 

50.  The  Craze  (yf  Chnstian  Engelhart.    By  Henry  Faulkner  Darnell. 

51.  Lai.    By  William  A.  Hammond,  M.  D. 

52.  Aline.    A  Novel.     By  Henry  Greville. 

53.  Joost  Avelingh.    A  Dutch  Story.    By  Maarten  Maartens. 

54.  Katy  of  Catoctin.    By  George  Alfred  Townsend. 

55.  Throchnoiion.    A  Novel.    By  Molly  Elliot  Sbawell. 

56.  Expatriation.    By  the  author  of  Aristocracy. 

57.  Geoffrey  Hampstead.    By  T.  S.  Jarvis. 


APPLETONS'  TOWN  AND  COUNTEY  LIBBARY.— (Continued.) 

58.  Dmitri.     A  Romance  of  Old  Russia.    By  F.  W.  Bain,  M.  A. 
59   Fart  of  the  Property.    By  Beatrice  Whitby. 

60.  Bismarck  in  Private  Life.    By  a  Fellow-Student. 

61.  In  Low  Edief.    By  Morlet  Roberts. 

62.  The  Canadians  of  Old.    A  Historical  Romance.    By  Philippe  GaspiS. 

63.  A  Squire  of  Low  Degree.    By  Lilt  A.  Long. 

64.  A  Fluttered  Dovecote.    By  George  Manville  Fenn. 

65.  The  JSugents  of  Carriconna.    An  Irish  Story.    By  Tighe  Hopkins. 

66.  A  Sensilice  Plant.    By  E.  and  D.  Gerard. 

67.  Dona  Lnz.    By  Juan  Valera.    Tianslated  by  Mrs  Mary  J.  Serrano. 

68.  Pepita  Ximenez.    By  Juan  Valera.    Translated  by  Mrs.  Mary  J.  Serrano. 

69.  The  Primes  and  their  Neighbors.    By  Richard  Malcolm  Johnston. 

70.  The  Iron  Game.    By  Henry  F.  Keen  an. 

71.  St07'ies  of  Old  New  Spain.    By  Thomas  A.  Janvier. 

72.  The  Maid  of  Honor.    By  Hon.  Lewis  Wingfield. 

73.  In  the  Heart  of  the  Storm.    By  Maxwell  Gray. 

74.  Consequences.    By  Egerton  Castle. 

75.  The  Three  Miss  Kings.    By  Ada  Cambridge. 

76.  A  Matter  of  Skill.    By  Beatrice  Whitby. 

77.  Maid  Marian.,  and  Other  Stories.    By  Molly  Elliot  Seawell. 

78.  One  Woman's  Way.    By  Edmund  Pendleton. 

79.  A  Merciful  Divorce.     By  F.  W.  Maude. 

80.  Stephen  EllicotVs  Daughter.    By  Mrs.  J.  H.  Needell. 

81.  One  Reason  Why.    By  Beatrice  Whitby. 

82.  The  Tragedy  of  Ida  Noble.    By  W.  Clark  Russell. 

83.  The  Johnstown  Stage,  and  other  Stories.    By  Robert  H.  Fletcher. 

84.  A  Widower  Indeed.    By  Rhoda  Broughton  and  Elizabeth  Bisland. 

85.  The  Flight  of  a  Shadow.    By  George  MacDonald. 

86.  Love  01' Money .    By  Ka.thabine  Lee. 

87.  Not  All  in  Tain.    By  Ada  Cambridge. 

88.  It  Happtned  Yesterday.    By  Frederick  Marshall. 

89.  My  Guardian.    By  Ada  Cambridge. 

90.  The  Story  of  Philip  Methuen.    By  Mrs.  J.  H.  Needell. 

91.  Amethyst :  The  Story  of  a  Beauty.    By  Christabel  R.  Coleridge. 

92.  Don  Braulio.    By  Juan  Valera.    Translated  by  Clara  Bell. 

93.  The  Chronicles  of  Mr.  Bill  W  illiams.    By  Richard  Malcolm  Johnston. 

94.  A  Queen  of  Curds  and  Crtam.    By  Dorothea  Gerard. 

95.  "  La  Bella  "  and  Others.    By  Egerton  Castle. 

96.  '■'■  December  Roses.''''    By  Mrs.  Campbell-Praec. 

97.  Jean  cle  Kerdren.    By  Jeanne  Schultz. 

98.  Etelka's  Vow.    By  Dorothea  Gerard. 

99.  Cross  Currents.    By  Mary  A.  Dickens. 

100.  His  Life's  Magnet.    By  Theodora  Elmslie. 

101.  Passing  the  Love  of  Women.    By  Mrs.  J.  H.  Needell. 

102.  In  Old  St.  Stephen's.    By  Jeanie  Drake. 

103.  The  Berkeley s  and  their  Neighboj'S.    By  Molly  Elliot  Seawbll. 

104.  3Iona  Maclean.  Medical  Student.    By  Graham  Travbrs. 

105.  Mrs.  Bligh.    By  Rhoda  Broughton. 

106.  A  Stumble  on  the  Threshold.    By  James  Payn. 

107.  Hanging  Moss.    By  Paul  Lindau. 

108.  A  Comedy  of  Elopement.    By  Christian  Reid. 

109.  In  the  Suntime  of  her  Youth.    By  Beatrice  Whitby. 

110.  Stories  in  Black  and  White.    By  Thomas  Hardy  and  Others. 
110^.  An  Englishman  in  Paris.    Notes  and  Recollections. 

111.  Commander  Mendoza.    By  Juan  Valera. 

112.  Dr.  PauWs  Theory.    By  Mrs.  A.  M.  Diehl. 

113.  Children  of  Destiny.    By  Molly  Elliot  Seawell. 

114.  A  Little  Minx.    By  Ada  Cambridge. 

11.5.   Capfn  Davy's  Honeymoon.    By  Hall  Caine. 

116.  The  Voice  of  a  Flower.    By  E.  Gerard. 

1 17.  Singularly  Deluded.    By  Sarah  Grand. 

118.  Suspected.    By  Louisa  Stratenus, 

119.  Lucia,  Hugh,  and  Another.    By  Mrs.  J.  H.  NebdblIj. 
V^,  The  Tutor's  Secret.    By  Victor  Cherbulie?. 


APPLETONS'   TOWN  AND  COUNTRY  LIB-BATLY.— (Continued.) 

121.  From  the  Five  Eivers.    By  Mrs.  F.  A.  Steel. 

122.  An  Innocent  Impostor,  and  Other  Stories.    By  Maxwell  Gkay. 

123.  Ideala.    By  Sarau  Grand. 

124.  A  Comedy  of  Masks.    By  Ernest  Dowson  and  Arthur  Moore. 

125.  Relics.    By  Frances  Mac^Jab.  a 

126.  Dodo:  A  Detail  of  the  Day.    By  E.  F.  Benson. 

127.  A  Woman  of  Forty.    By  Ksme  Stuart. 

128.  Diana  Tempest.    By  Mart  Cholmonbeley. 

129.  The  Recipe  for  Diamonds.    By  C.  J.  Cutcliffb  Htnb. 

100.  Christina  Chard.    By  Mrs.  Campbell-Praed. 

131.  A  Gray  Eye  or  So.    By  Frank  Frankfort  Moorb. 

132.  Earlscourt.    By  Alexander  Allardtce. 
138.  A  Marriage  Ceremony.     By  Ada  Cambridge. 

134.  A  Ward  in  Chancery.     By  Mrs.  Alexander. 

135.  Lot  13.    By  Dorothea  Gerard. 

13(j.  Our  Manifold  Nature.     By  Sarah  Grand. 

137.  A  Costly  Freak.    By  Maxwell  Gray. 

138.  A  Beginner.    By  Rhoda  Broughton. 

139.  A  Yellow  Aster.     By  Mrs.  Mannington  Cafftn  ("  Tota"). 

140.  The  Rubicon.    By  E.  F.  Benson. 

141.  The  Trespasser.    By  Gilbert  Parker. 

142.  The  Rich  Miss  Eiddell.    By  Dorothea  Gerard. 
14;^.  Mary  Fenivick's  Daughter.    By  Eeatrice  Whitbt. 

144.  Red  Diamonds.    By  Justin  McCarthy. 

145.  A  Daughter  of  Music.    By  G.  Colsiore. 

143.  Outlaw  and  Lawmaker.     By  Mrs.  Campbell-Praed. 

147.  Dr.  Janet  of  Hurley  Street.    By  Arabella  Kenealt. 

148.  George  Mandeville''s  Husband.    By  C.  E.  Raimond. 

149.  Vashti  and  Esther. 

150.  Timor's  Two  Worlds.    By  M.  Jokai. 

151.  A  Victim  of  Good  Luck.    By  W.  E.  Norris. 

152.  The  Trail  of  the  Sword.    By  Gilbert  Parker. 

153.  A  Mild  Barbarian.    By  Edgar  Fawcett. 

154.  The  God  in  the  Car.    By  Anthony  Hope. 

155.  Childi'en  of  Circumstance.    By  Mrs.  M,  Cafftn. 
15G.  At  the  Gate  of  Samaria.     By  William  J.  Locke. 

157.  The  Justiflcdtiou  of  Andi^eiv  Lebrun.     By  Frank  Barrett. 
158    Dust  and  Laurels.    By  Mary'  L.  Pendered. 
150.   The  Good  Ship  Mohock.    By  W.  Clark  Russell. 
IGO.  Noeini.    By  S.  Baring-Gould. 

101.  The  Honour  of  Savelli.     By  S.  Levett  Yeats. 

162.  Kitty's  Engagement.    By  Florence  Warden. 

163.  The  Mermaid.    By  L.  Dougall. 

1^4.  An  Arranged  Marriage.    By  Dorothea  Gerard. 

165.  Eve's  Ransom.    By  George  Gissing. 

166.  The  Marriage  of  Esther.    By  Gity  Boothbt. 

167.  Fidelis.    By  Ada  Cambridge. 

Iti8.  Into  the  Highways  and  Hedges.    By  F.  F.  Montr^sor. 

169.  The  Vengeance  of  James  Vansittaji.    By  Mrs.  J.  H.  Needell. 

170.  A  Study  in  Prejudices.     By  George  Paston. 

171.  The  Mistress  of  Quest.     Bj"  Adeline  Sergeant. 

172.  In  the  Year  af  Jubilee.     By  George  Gissing. 

173.  In  Old  New  England.   ByHEZEKiAH  Butterworth. 

174.  Mrs.  Musgrave — and  Her  Husband.    By  R.  Marsh. 

175.  Not  Couriting  the  Cost.    By  Tasma. 

176.  Oi/t  of  Due  Season.     By  Adeline  Sergeant. 

177.  Scylla  or  Charybdis  ?    By  Rhoda  Bhoughton. 

178.  In  Defiance  of  the  King.    By  C.  C.  Hotchkiss. 

179.  A  Bid  for  Fortune.    By  Guy  Boothby. 

180.  The  Kitig  of  Anda?nan.    By  J.  Maclaren  Cobban. 

181.  Mrs.  Tregaski-is.    By  Mrs.  Campbell-Praed. 

182.  The  Desire  of  the  Moth.    By  Capel  Vane. 

183.  A  Self- Denying  Ordinance.    By  M.  Hamilton. 

184.  Successors  to  the  Title.    By  Mrs.  L,  B.  Walforp, 


APPLETONS'  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY  UBHARY.-(Continued.) 


185.  77ie  Lost  Stradivarius.    By  J.  Meade  Falkner. 

186.  The  Wro»g  Man.    By  Dorothea  Gerard. 

187.  In  the  Bay  of  Adversity.    By  J.  Bloundelle-Burton. 

188.  Mistress  Dorothy  Marvin.    By  J.  0.  Snaith. 

189.  A  Flash  of  Summer.    By  Mrs.  W.  K.  Clifford. 

190.  The  Dancer  in  Yellow.    By  W.  E.  Norris. 

191.  The  Chronicles  of  Martin  Hewitt.    By  Arthur  Morrison. 

192.  A  Winning  Hazard.    By  Mrs.  Alexander. 

193    The  Ficture  of  Las  Cruets.    By  Christian  Reid. 

194.  The  Madonna  of  a  Day.    By  L.  Dougall. 

195.  The  Riddle  Ring.    By  Justin  McCarthy. 
19().  A  Humble  Enterprise.     By  Ada  Cambridge. 

197.  Dr.  Nikola.    By  Guy  Boothby. 

198.  An  Outcast  of  the  Islands.    By  Joseph  Conrad. 

199.  The  King's  Revenge.    By  Claude  Bray. 

200.  Denounced.    By  J.  Bloundelle-Burton. 

201.  A  Court  Intrigue.    By  Basil  Thompson, 

202.  The  Idol-Maker.    By  Adeline  Sergeant. 

203.  77ie  Intriguers.    By  John  D.  Barry. 

204.  Master  Ardick,  Buccaneer.    By  F.  H.  Costello. 

205.  With  lortune  Made.    By  Victor  Chk.rbuliez. 

206.  Fellow  Travellers.    By  Graham  Travers. 

207.  McLeodofthe  Camerons.    By  M.  Hamilton. 

208.  The  Career  of  Candida.    By  George  Paston. 

209.  Arrested.    By  Esme  Stuart. 
21-0.  Tatterley.    By  T.  Gallon, 


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Mary  J.  S afford.    2  volumes. 
Cleopatra.     Translated  by  Mary  J.   Safford.    2  volumes. 
A  Thorny  Path.     (PERAf^PERA.)    Translated  by  Clara  Bell.    2  volumes. 
An  Egryptian  Princess.    Translated  by  Eleanor  Grove.    2  volumes. 
Uarda.     rianslated  by  Clara  Bell.     2  volumes. 
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